


Deeper, Darker

by Silvermoonphantom (Daitoshi)



Category: Danny Phantom, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Barb just can't catch a break, Blood and Gore, Creepy, Danny Is Spooky, Friendship, Gen, Major Character Injury, Survival, The Upside Down, Trauma, Vomiting, Will is a smart kid, but not gratuitous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7743790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daitoshi/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just him and the monster, right? All Will has to do is run, hide... unless he's not alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Hands

He never knew how terrifying night could be, before he was dragged into this strange world. Decay was all around him, dead trees and dead leaves and rot-covered houses. His fort wasn’t much better, really. The sticks didn’t hold any sort of heat, and what felt like a comforting hideaway when he was with friends now felt… uncomfortably exposed.

Will shivered, not sure if his muscles were trembling from fear or the temperature at this point.

It was so _cold_.

He breathed over his fingertips, stilling when he heard the faint rustle-snap of footsteps approaching. He stayed perfectly still, skinny limbs still trembling despite his best efforts.

A shadow passed the spaces of his fort, and Will held his breath, heart pounding in his throat. The wheezing click-click of that _creature_ shuffled forward.

He should have stayed at his house, but the monster had already torn it apart looking for him, he couldn’t… A sob bubbled up in his throat and he fought to keep it back. There was nowhere to run, but he could _smell_ it, almost _taste_ the thick stench in the air.

Will could taste blood from biting his lip so hard, as he heard another quick shuffle of leaves coming toward them. _Another one?_

_He was going to die!_

The creature growled a chirruping sort of gasp, and Will could see the shadow of it rise up to stand on two legs as the second approached. He whimpered around the knot in his throat and hurried to cover his ears when it let out a rattling scream.

The horrible noise cut off into an abrupt yelp,  and a bright flash washed the smell of _rot_ into something like burning citrus, or the acrid snap of a broken light bulb. He flinched at the sickening _crack_ and a fleshy squelch, his own lungs catching as he tried to breath quietly after holding it for so long.

Were they fighting over who would get to eat him? Maybe they’d just kill each other.

Leaves crunched into the distance as one of them fled, and Will found his heart sinking. The brief hope fluttered and died.

Wide eyes tracked the smaller shadow as it circled his fort, and he couldn’t help closing them tightly and curling into a tighter ball when something black started pulling back the canvas door.

He waited a long moment, heart pounding tightly in his throat, fingers numb as his breath whistled between blue lips.

“Hey.”

 

A….

 

A voice?

Will cracked his eyes open again, looking hesitantly toward the door.

A teenager was crouched in the entrance way, one hand braced on the frame of his hideout while the other dripped black sludge to the dirt floor below.

“You okay?”

He stared blankly, mind unable to wrap around what he was seeing, after being in this dark place for so long. The teenager pulled a grimace, looking over his shoulder and scooting a bit more inside. Will wished he recognized the other boy, but the black hair and piercing blue eyes were utterly unfamiliar.

“Sorry, standard question. You look cold, though. Wanna get out of here?”

 Will nodded slowly, bewildered as the teen offered a hand to help him up off the little bunk he had once made out of sticks and old pieces of fence. He painfully uncurled, only hesitating a moment before reaching out and taking the teen’s hand.

He wished he could say he felt safe, comforted, relieved for it all to be over.

But the fear of death never really left, even as the other teen smiled at him and helped gather up supplies and carefully guided him between shadows, through the forest.

Will didn’t miss the way those blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

How his movements were just a little too quick, too smooth.

And the long-fingered hand holding his own…

 

Was _cold._

 

 

 


	2. Bright Eyes

 

Every step they took under the skeletal branches, Will expected the monster to burst out from behind a tree or drop down on their heads and tear the two of them apart.

Hell, a good part of him expected the teen to turn around and his face split open or something equally horrifying.

The strange fog wasn’t helping, billowing around them in convoluted patterns and making moving shadows out of nothing. With a small yelp, Will stumbled over a branch, breath catching as his adrenaline spiked.

But a strong arm caught him around the chest, and he felt himself lifted up and set back up on his feet. He stared at the black head bent over, and the nimble fingers plucking a thorny (dead) raspberry vine out of his pant legs.

He carefully stepped out of the tangle and looked around again, that eerie predatory prickle still digging into the base of his nape. He couldn’t decide if the teen was actually a friend, or if this was some other trickier monster of this world.

“So what’s your name?”

He was being led by the hand again, toward a section of old apartments on the edge of the forest that Will couldn’t remember ever visiting. Maybe that’s why he didn’t recognize him?

He opened his mouth to answer, but a flash of that eerie blue glow had him snapping his mouth shut again. The thing-that-looked-like-a-teenager swept its gaze at the trees behind them, then up into the boughs as the two continued. A thousand entries in journals, monster manuals, and old stories reminded him that giving your name to a supernatural being was a Bad Idea.

He swallowed, wondering if he could even play this game, or if… he was already trapped.

“What’s yours?”

Blue eyes flicked down to him, and Will swore he could see amusement.

“You can call me Danny.”

Will swallowed, nodding. (You can call me) – Was that even his real name, or was it a lie?

“Nice to meet you, Danny.”

The teen flashed a small smile, before stopping them again and dragging the smaller boy down into a crouch, herding him into a thick tangle of bramble. Sensing the sudden urgency, Will was quick to curl up and make himself as small a target as he could.

Danny tracked something through the fog, though Will couldn’t see what it was through the thin branches that dug into his arm. A thorn pressed into his thigh, but he refused to move as the teen’s gaze suddenly jerked upward and to the side – well above where any ground-dwelling creature could walk.

This close, he could see the slivers of green within the other boy’s eyes, and the eerie way shadows were pooled across his face when lit from within.  Black frazzled hair seemed to smooth down on its own, and Will stared at the sudden change in hair style with clarifying wariness.

‘Hackles Raised’ was supposed to be a metaphor, not an actual thing humans could do.

The piercing eyes flicked down to meet his own, and Will averted his gaze, fumbling with the corner of his jacket.

“You look cold”  Danny repeated, and scooped him up by the armpits out of the brambles.

“I’m not helpless.” He protested, as he was set down again.

A strange look passed over the teen’s face, as slender shoulders shrugged nonchalantly. The larger hand slotted back into his own, and Will tried hard to keep an eye on his surroundings while staying clear of any more branches.

“How’d you end up here, anyway?”

Danny looked down at him, brows furrowed.

“I should be asking you that.”

Will shrugged back, eyeing the chain link fence of the apartment complex, and the old trees whose bark had grown between the links, almost consuming parts of it. The image made him uneasy for some reason, and he was painfully aware that the teen hadn’t answered his question.

Danny unlatched the back gate, swinging it shut and latching again after they both skirted inside. Will swallowed anxiously, but followed the teen into the decrepit brick building despite his own misgivings.

With the click of the door behind him, darkness truly fell, and Will felt his pupils straining to find shapes in the darkness. He ended up wrapping his arms around himself, following the pathway lit by the teenager’s glowing eyes.


	3. Advice

Surprisingly, nothing terrible happened to him in the dark.

The carpets were as soft as one could expect from a rotted old apartment, laced by the same vines and creeping mold that covered the rest of this grey world. He watched Danny unlock an apartment with some keys he fished out of a pocket, and followed the ushering hand gesture without protest.

Stepping inside, he didn’t expect…

Will turned around as he shuffled in, looking at every corner of clean, _white_ walls.

He found a couch and lifted a pillow, astonished to see a complete lack of rotting _whatever that was_  that coated the rest of this world. It still smelled a little musty, but more like an old basement than the weird sour taint that he’d found in every other man-made building.

He whipped around to find the black-haired teen fumbling with something on a banged-up kitchen table, before a red glow flickered to life in his hands.

Mouth dry, Will found himself drawn to the flame, reaching his hands out to cup it in awe.

It felt….

Pure.

Unbroken by whatever had eaten away at this world.

He didn’t see Danny’s face soften with understanding, nor did he notice the steady, patient way he kept the little candle held out for him. He didn’t notice when his hands stopped shaking, or when the color bled back into purple-tinged fingertips.

“….how?”

Will finally looked up at the other boy, relieved to find he looked a lot more human with the warm glow lighting his features. White teeth flashed in a proud grin, and Danny carefully transferred the candle into the younger boy’s hands.

“You probably found out already, most technology doesn’t survive long in this place.” Will nodded, watching as a rusty-looking battery and a length of coiled wire was lifted up from the mess of…stuff… scattered across the table.

“But normal physics still works, for the most part. Metal still conducts electricity, and even though they’re weak, a lot of batteries still have a charge. Enough to slap together a lighter, anyway.”

Will nodded, remembering the cherry glow of a live wire from his science class. He looked back up at the walls, and the spatter of white paint on the edges of some of the carpet.  Danny ushered him toward the couch again, letting him keep the candle.

Another three were lit from the one he held, and he watched with no small amount of curiosity as the teen set them up under a cast-iron skillet that itself was perched on what looked like twisted scrap metal.

A dented can was pulled out from a small stack in what was once a kitchenette before it was piled high with random junk.  Or maybe it all had a purpose, but Will couldn’t figure it out.

He DID know that his mouth started watering as soon as Danny broke the can’s seal with a rusty opener, and the salty tang of tomato soup drifted across the small room.

“Don’t eat anything with meat in it.”

Will looked up to the teen’s face, but he seemed to be concentrating on shaking the semisolid contents into the skillet.

“Something about this world makes it rot, even if it’s in a sealed can. Don’t eat anything that’s perishable, even if it still looks nice. Pickled things are fine, as long as they’re not meat. Pretend you’re vegetarian. Water’s fine if you boil it first.”

Will swallowed the saliva he felt building up, taking another look around the junk-filled, white-walled room again.

“How…. Long have you been here?”

Black bangs fell in front of the teen’s face, and he didn’t answer.


	4. Soup for the soul

 Will shifted uneasily as the silence stretched onward, and shot a furtive look toward the large window giving the room the most light. A thought occurred to him, and he turned to block the flame’s light with his body.

“Should… we cover the window, or something? So it doesn’t see in?”

Danny shook his head, holding his clean hand over the soup to test the temperature. He hummed, picking up a bent spoon and stirring it a little.

“They don’t have eyes, so it wouldn’t matter.”

 Will looked out at the forest again, watching the curls of fog seep around barren branches. He had so many questions about this place, and the whiplash away from being constantly terrified was making his stomach queasy.

A tickle in the back of his throat had him coughing roughly into the crook of his arm, holding his candle to the side. When he opened his eyes again, he startled back into the couch, hot wax slopping down the back of his hand and smothering the tiny flame.

Just as the pain startled a hiss out of him, Danny was kneeling in front of him, gently pulling the candle out of his hand and pulling the quickly-cooling wax up off his skin. How had he moved across the room that fast?

“How long did it have you before you escaped?” the teen asked, voice strangely flat.

Will felt a prickle of unease up the back of his neck, and pulled his hand away from cold fingers.

“It didn’t.” He mumbled, “It dragged me here and I shot it and I’ve been hiding ever since.”

And running away, but that was probably a given.

Danny looked up at him, brows furrowed slightly. It was more obvious than ever, the strange luminescence lighting up his cheeks a pale blue. Like the eerie cyan of a deep sea glow fish he once saw on the TV.

“You shot at it? With a gun?”

Will swallowed dryly, nodding.

“I, uh… dropped it and ran when it ran out of ammo.”

He felt foolish now, thinking back on it. He should have kept it and looked for more ammo to protect himself with, but the extra weight and bulky shape meant it would have slowed him down when running.  But Danny was grinning, practically bouncing back to the skillet to give it another stir.

“Do you remember where you dropped it?” he asked. Will picked another bit off wax off his knuckle, relieved that it was just turning red, and not blistering or anything. Then again, it was hard to tell in the dim light. He already missed the candle.

“By the front porch of my house. I was trying to talk to my mom when it attacked me.”

The rhythmic scrape of the spoon on cast-iron stopped suddenly, and Will was acutely aware of how humans shouldn’t be able to be that _still._

“Your mom’s here?”

Will shook his head slightly, pulling his legs up onto the couch and tentatively pulling one of the blankets off the backrest to pull over himself.

“She’s still.. uh, not here. In the real world? But… she’s really smart, so....” He licked his lips, wondering if he should be telling him this – if he would use it against him.

What if Danny tried to trick his mom? What if… what if he killed Will and pretended to be him in order to kill her too?! He clammed up, burrowing a bit more into the cushions.

The teen started moving again, tapping the spoon against the skillet and raising it to his mouth to taste. He nodded slightly, and grabbed a chipped mug before tilting the skillet and pouring some of the soup inside. Danny crouched down after dropping the spoon into the mug and setting a lid over the skillet, blowing out the candles.

 Left in the darkness, it was like two dim lamps were bobbing toward him as Danny approached the couch, offering the mug. Will took it gingerly, holding it close to his chest.

“Aren’t you hungry…?” Danny had laid down, sprawling out over the cluttered floor and pushing aside some sort of motor with his foot. He waved his hand dismissively and yawned, flopping his arm back on the floor.

“I made that all for you, don’t worry. Help yourself.”

The blue light blinked away as Danny closed his eyes, and Will realized how dark it had really gotten, with the sun setting on this already-dim world. He forewent the spoon and just sipped at the warm soup, sighing as the bright flavor burst over his tongue. All he needed was some grilled cheese and it’d be easy to pretend that this whole ordeal never happened.

Will practically gulped it down, the near-scalding liquid reminding him how _hungry_ he had been. How long had he been in this world, anyway? Days? Weeks? He couldn’t remember eating anything until now, so why hadn’t he felt hungry?

He slid off the couch, dragging a blanket cape behind him as he carefully spooned more soup into his mug, breathing in the tomato smell with relish. A few mugs later, and Will was heading back to the couch, wedging himself into the cushions and piling another blanket on top of himself.

Danny was still sprawled out on the ground, and Will resisted the urge to check his breathing. The teen’s chest wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t much more worrying than all the other weird hints the guy had been throwing off.

Black ooze that had been clinging to Danny’s hand after the…confrontation… with the monster had been drying and chipping off all night, but Will could see some of it still crusted on the back of his wrist.

How…. How had he fought it off?

But between the warm blankets and the taste of tomato soup lingering on his tongue, sleep was doing a spectacular job of drawing him in. With the faint thought of ‘no other choice but to trust him’, and more questions than he had before he met the other boy, Will fell asleep.


	5. Noodles and Stuff

Will woke up with a shuddering gasp, eyes snapping open and darting around the room.

White walls, piles of junk, and a heap of blankets was all that looked back. Will slowly lowered himself back down into the couch, digging a finger into one of the comforter's holes. The warm cocoon of blankets seemed criminal to leave, when the sky outside was still black.

Danny had vanished at some point in the night, but there wasn't much he could do about that, except wait for him to get back.

'Speak of the devil' he thought sleepily, drawing the blankets back up to his chin and planning to nap again until morning. He could hear footsteps creaking the carpet outside, heralding the teen's approach. It was still surreal, the feeling of safety after… how long? Days? Weeks? He lost track a while ago.

Even if the black-haired teen wasn't quite… human… he'd still saved him from the monster, and fed him, and gave him a place to sleep.

There was a long moment of silence as Will waited for the rattle of keys and the door opening. How was he supposed to put that much gratitude into words?

From the other side of the door, a long, rattling hiss made his blood freeze.

Will sucked in a sharp breath, pulse jumping in his throat. _The monster_! It was _here_! He looked around wildly, trying to find a place to hide without making too much noise.

Everywhere he looked, only junk piles stood out. Even if he did move something, it'd definitely make a loud clatter. Feeling helpless, Will gripped the edge of his blankets, watching the door knob with a horrified fascination.

It twitched once and Will flinched at the accompanying whuffing noise, but the slow clicks and eerie murmure of the creature slowly shuffled away down the hallway.

Heart pounding, he slipped out of the blanket and grabbed a long knife from one of the piles. He noticed the cast iron pan was free of any soup residue, and the candle wax had long since hardened.

Will tucked himself behind a pile of plywood leaning against a wall in the kitchenette, terrified at every clank and clatter he made. What if the monster heard? He tried to quiet his own breathing, holding the knife at the ready and hoping there was enough room that he could flee if it really DID come back to find him.

Long seconds ticked by.

He adjusted his grip on the knife, arms starting to grow tired.

All he could hear was his own breathing, and the thump of his own heartbeat in his ears.

Ever-so-slowly, he lowered the knife.

When nothing immediately jumped out at him, he leaned his head against the wall, weariness sucking at his bones again. Was he even safe here, or was he just getting lucky?

Where was the strange teen anyway?

Had he been eaten?

Will lost himself to the meandering plans on what he'd do if Danny really had gotten eaten. He might try to set up base in this weirdly clean room. Use the scraps to make some traps and alarm systems. There was a lot of soup stockpiled, but… he'd have to make it back to his house from here, if he wanted to try and talk to his mom again.

Maybe he could fashion some armor out of the metal?

But… that wouldn't work. He was too small to use heavy armor. His body type was probably a chainmaille-and-leather kind of thing.

His head shot up when he heard the door handle turn, whipping the knife up at the ready.

A faint creak and the soft press of carpet, and the door swung open.

Will strained his ears, but he couldn't hear footsteps. He could feel his fingers trembling around the handle of the knife, as a rustle of plastic knocked against something wooden.

"Good morning! I found some more candles! Oh, hey, where-"

Plastic crinkled louder, and Will was already lowering the knife in relief.

"I'm here" He called out half-heartedly, shuffling out from under the plywood. Danny was already halfway through dumping a bag full of various candles onto the table. A second duffle bag looked stuffed to the gills, and Will shyly slipped over to tug curiously at the zipper. Thankfully, Danny didn't make a big deal about the way he had been hiding.

Inside, was packed a ton more canned fruits and vegetables. Lots of soups, and some containers of spices, oils, and other non-perishables he remembered his mom buying in bulk whenever they were on sale.

"Where did you get all these?" He wondered aloud.

Danny gave him a smile that looked like he was forcing himself to be cheerful. - it felt out of place after the stress he had just waited through, and Will averted his gaze.

"The grocery store on the corner gets more in pretty regularly. I've never seen it happen, but here we are."

Long fingers plucked up several cans, stacking it in his arms before heading toward one of the piles. This happened several times, and Will still couldn't figure out the rhyme or reason to why he was making the piles he was. Noodles and cans of soda and vegetables in a pile over there, then different vegetables and a bunch of rice over there. A whole cupboard full of different kinds of pastas was already crammed full, and now Danny was making a new pile devoted entirely to-

"That's a lot of tomato soup."

"Hmm?" Danny glanced over his shoulder distractedly, before looking down at what was in his arms. "Oh, yeah, I guess it is. You seemed to like it, though."

Will flushed, pulling out a box of Angel Hair noodles and tilting it to the side to watch the noodles slide around.

"I was hungry." He muttered, quickly gathering some more noodles in his arm and bringing it to the noodle cupboard.

"Ah! Not there!"

He stopped, looking down at his arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Here, let me- I just-" Danny started pulling the boxes out of his arms, easily balancing them in one of his own.

"I can help. Tell me where they go." The other boy slowed at his protest, looking a little embarrassed.

"Right, sorry, I just... " He cleared his throat, stepping back. "They're organized by, uh… cook time. So, how many candles do I need to make it? The thick noodles like Penne and Lasagna go over there-" He gestured to the pile in the far corner. "And stuff like Angel hair goes in that pile."

Danny dropped the blue box onto the aforementioned pile, tucking it against the wall. Will nodded. It made sense.

"The cupboard is for… weird noodles like wheat, that I don't really like. I mean, I'll eat it if I have to, but I just don't like the taste, y'know?"

Will couldn't help the smile creeping over his face. He didn't know if it was Danny's fumbling excuse to explain, or the idea that there really was reason within this giant mess. The flustered defensive expression reminded him of his brother.

Will walked over and dumped some Lasagna in the proper pile.

"So… What's in that pile?"

"Random shit I found."

That startled a snort out of him, which dissolved into stupid, relieved giggles. The teen seemed confused, but chuckled along, thankfully not commenting when the laughter started to gain a hysterical note, before petering out with a shuddering sigh.


	6. Alone Together

The rest of the food had been put away easily, and the Will ended up slurping down several cans of sweetened fruit, in lieu of taking the time to heat something up. With his stress levels finally falling, Will let the teen usher him around, putting on an empty backpack and a grey hoodie without much thought.  The sweater fit surprisingly well, the insides soft and fuzzy against his cheek - a higher quality sweater than he’d probably ever worn in his life.

Danny handed him a pair of thick wool socks and a knit cap, both of which were pulled into place.

The parts of his brain that were still functioning found the irony kinda funny. The first time he’d be able to wear luxury clothing was in a broken down world full of horrible things.  Still, it was nice to have some relief against the cold air. Closed room or not, the apartment seemed uninsulated against the November chill setting in.

“You wanna go back to sleep?”

Will looked up, furrowing his brows, easily finding the blue lamps of Danny’s eyes in the darkness.

“Why would I want to do that?”

The glow flicked up, then back down at the small sewing kit he was fiddling with, pushing a thread through the eye of a needle, and drawing it quickly through to an appropriate length.

“Well, it’s still before sunrise. I wasn’t gone all that long, and you seemed pretty freaked out when I got back. If you feel safer sleeping when I’m around, now’s a good time to get some rest.” He drew the thread up to his mouth, snapping it off with a glinting bite.

“I do wanna get that gun you mentioned, but we’ll need to wait until daylight anyway.”

“Do YOU wanna sleep?”

Will kicked his feet from where he sat on the couch, briefly reaching out with a thickly socked toe to poke the corner of the blanket Danny was about to work on.

“Hmm, no, I’m good, thanks.”

Will licked his lips, still tasting the sweet syrup from his can of peaches.

“You… still haven’t eaten anything.”

“Sure I have” The answer came easy, but Will still felt a curl of misgiving. “ While I was out, I had a can of soup.” There wasn’t any real reason to lie about that. But… Somehow it still felt like a lie. Danny pulled the extra blanket toward him, needle flashing little blue glints as he stitched up one of its holes.

“When was the last time you slept?”

The teen shrugged, not looking up from his repairs.

“I don’t need much sleep.” He glanced up at Will again. “Seriously, you should get some rest. I’ll wake you when morning rolls around.”  

Will frowned again, looking away. The comfort he had felt with Danny had quickly vanished into smoke, constant reminders of unnaturalness rubbing on his nerves. Was there a certain reason he wanted him to go to sleep? Last time, he had run off to get supplies, and sure that was nice, but it had still… the monster still showed up, in that short time.

He curled his feet up onto the couch, fear creeping in that there might be something lurking in the dark space under it. Or… behind one of the piles, or in any of the innumerable shadows around the room.

He felt time crawl along, sitting stiff and silent on the couch, watching Danny jump from hole to hole, mending the blanket. Will nestled his face down into the warm sweater again, eyes trailing over the teen’s thin white shirt and short sleeves. He recalled the _coldcoldcold_ hands that had held his own, and the moments of unnatural stillness during their escape.

He knew he should be more thankful, but he also had read way too many monster manuals about tricksters and slow-burn traps. What kind of resource did a creature like Danny need to survive, if not food?

Fresh meat?

He was strong enough to fight off one of the monsters, and had his own little den, full of useful human things. Human _food_ that he didn’t even eat.

“You sure you’re not hungry?”

Danny shrugged one shoulder, bringing the blanket a bit closer to his face to knot off the end of a thread.

“Maybe a bit thirsty, but I can grab something in a bit.”

Will pushed himself off the couch, stuffing his trembling fingers into the fuzzy pouch on the front of his sweater.

“Where do you keep the cups? I can get it.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you.” Danny didn’t look up, but the pleased note was apparent in his voice. “In the cabinet up top, to the right of the sink.”

Will fumbled through the darkness, sidestepping piles of junk as best he could. He still tripped over something that clattered loudly, and apologized several times under his breath as he stood atop some sort of crate to reach the glasses - the telephone laying prone on the floor. 

From the gallon of water he poured them both a glass, setting Danny’s beside him on the hard carpet before scooting back onto the couch himself.

It was… actually a relief, when he watched Danny sip absently at the glass, draining it faster than Will did, fingers tracing over the mended blanket in search for any snags or further damage.

“What happened to it, anyway?”

“Ehh, I used it to try to get over a spiky-topped fence. My climbing skills aren’t the greatest, and I kinda tore the he-heck out of it.” He totally noticed the brief hesitation of an almost-swear. Will hummed to himself, leaning back against the couch and tilting his head back to try to imagine the sneaky teen being ungraceful.

Between one breath and the next, he had drifted off to sleep.

\---

 

When he woke up, Will couldn’t help the tiny yelp, jerking into awareness with a small flail.

The mended blanket had been draped over him, tucked in around the sides. Now that it didn’t feel like a smothering monster, it was… a nice gesture.

A sound caught his attention, and Will found Danny shrugging on a thick camouflage jacket, and similarly colored backpack. Both stood out starkly against the white wall behind him. He pushed the blanket aside and stood up, stretching out cramping legs and appreciating the warmth caught under the new clothes.

Danny glanced to the side, shooting him a soft smile.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Will stuck his tongue out before he could think to do otherwise, the exchange far too familiar with his brother’s habits. He sucked it in quickly, feeling embarrassed, and a bit resentful that the other teen had stolen that moment.

An ache twisted in his upper chest, and it took a moment to realize it was _lonliness._ He _missed_ his brother, and the feeling of safety in his own room. He missed mix tapes and the smell of old socks, and the way his brother would slouch around everywhere, except in the moments when he craned up on his toes to get the perfect angle on his beloved camera.

When his brain finally came off autopilot, Danny was opening the front door, and Will felt fear zing through his stomach.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, slinking to the side, out of sight of the doorway.

In the cool light of morning, those eyes didn’t seem so luminous, but no less eerie as they considered him.

“You said you had a gun at some point, yeah? You shot it in this world?”   
Will nodded jerkily, and the teen opened the door wider.

“Then we should find it again. All the other ones I’ve found had the springs rusted to uselessness.”

“Can’t you just repair it, then?” His voice sounded weak in his own ears, and Danny quirked an odd expression.

“Do you know how?”  Will hesitated, glancing between Danny’s face and the still-open door.

“There’s…. Books, right?”

Green eyes blinked and widened, as if the idea honestly hadn’t occurred to him.

“Yeah, I guess,  but for now it’d be faster to just retrieve the already-working one. You don’t live too far away from here, right?”

Will eyed the open door, shuffling away and picking up the long knife again.  The monster tended to come and go quickly, but it didn’t seem to like giving up on prey. He probably wouldn’t be able to fight it in this little space, but it was better than nothing.

The wariness and bitter loneliness bubbled up at Danny’s question, and he shook his head ‘no’.

“I don’t know where ‘here’ is.” A lie. He’d ridden his bike down nearly every back alley and street this little town had. He just wanted Danny to _close the friggin door._

“Could you get back home from your fort thing? It’s not far.”

He averted his eyes, shifting uncomfortably.

“Can we… not go through the woods again?”  The idea of having leaves crunching under his feet while something stalked him through the shadows was unappealing at best.

Danny clicked his tongue, opening his mouth to say something before pausing, distracted. Will hunched his shoulders, uncomfortable with the _unnatural_  stillness of the other boy. He jumped, letting out a startled yelp and flailing his knife when the teen suddenly slammed the door closed on a twisting, flexing clawed hand.

Will scurried backward, bumping into the couch and stumbling while Danny leaned heavily against the rough slamming and loud rattle of a door clearly being attacked from the outside. Even the walls seemed to vibrate with it, and Will wanted to cover his ears from the snarling whistles and snapping teeth hissing through the open crack.

The grasping black  hand managed to slip back out, the door finally snapped shut under the teen’s weight. Will felt his heart freeze in his chest at the rattling screech coming from just beyond the doorframe, the sound chilling his blood deeper than wind ever could.

Danny didn’t seem phased, bracing his shoulder against the door. He yanked up his sleeve, raised a forearm to his mouth and made a quick jerking motion, wincing in pain. Will could hear the teen curse quietly, but the pounding and hissing had abruptly stopped.

Green, glowing fluid leaked from a rough cut on the teen’s arm, covered quickly by pale fingers that rose to smear an ugly handprint across the door’s seam. Will followed several drops with his eyes as they curved down the slender wrist, dripping to age-yellowed carpet.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, breath caught in his throat, but he couldn’t look away. A sort of… _hum_ had filled the room, setting his teeth on edge. Will blinked. Swallowed. Even the tiniest movements somehow took a ton of willpower to accomplish, and he didn’t even notice when the teenager had abandoned his post at the front door, retrieving bandages from somewhere in the mess.

Was he shaking? He couldn’t even tell…  Where was the monster?

It was too quiet.

“Are you alright?”

Will jerked, looking up to the concerned face hovering over him. He quickly looked back toward the door, feeling his hand shaking around the knife again. His knuckles ached from the strength he gripped it with, but letting go was inconceivable.

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s- ah!” Will didn’t decide so much as he just _reacted_ , slashing the knife sideways toward the lanky figure reaching for him. His blade didn’t make make a mark, but he _saw_ it slide through the teenager’s forearm. Green was still leaking out of the other, but _He didn’t bleed red_.

If the Monster Manual taught him anything, it was that nonhumans didn’t necessarily abide by the same laws and morals that humans did. The guy _bit his own arm until it bled_. How was he supposed to trust that something like that had a ‘no killing humans’ rule?  Or even if it didnt, that it wasn’t- That it wouldn’t- Was he even being helped, or was this a trap? How could- … what should he…????

Will choked on his next breath, lungs catching in a painful wheeze, mind scattered as he held the knife out in front of him. It was getting hard to piece his train of thoughts together, and nothing made SENSE.   
“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s okay…”

Danny was gesturing slowly with wide-open palms, watching him closely. Will had slipped off the couch, half-crouched over a rumpled blanket, face almost as pale as the night he was dragged into this awful place.

He swallowed around the knot of fear in his throat.

“Are you going kill me?”  At least the teen had the grace to look surprised at the question.

“Kill- Of course not!” He exclaimed, lowering his hands. The uncomfortable _hum_ still hadn’t subsided.

Will shifted, the tag on his hoodie itching a bit, but he refused to take his eyes off the being in front of him. Refused to lower the knife.

“Look, I’m just trying to protect you. It’s easier to fight those things with long range weapon, and I kinda suck with spears, so we should find a gun, yeah?”

“Why..did it run away from your blood?” He wished his voice hadn’t quivered, but the teen’s face didn’t change from worried concern.

“It mainly hunts with smell and sound. I smell really bad to it, so it leaves me alone.”  

His tired arms slowly lowered the knife, heart still punching against the inside of his ribs. He watched the teen slowly, gingerly pull the blade from his fingers, tossing it with a clatter to the floor a few steps away. His mind was still whirling, confusion and fear making him sink down and shove himself against the couch, shivering harder than he could control.

“Why are you helping me? What do you have to gain from this? Just… why?”

His voice sounded wheedly, rasping as the adrenaline slowly drained out, replaced with a sort of scared resignation. He was caught between a monster and something that could kill monsters, and he didn’t know which one was the worse deal.  Sure, the one outside would kill him, but Danny could… suck out his soul, or something. Feed off his misery and fear. Or maybe he was just feeding him to fatten him up for later.

Danny pull the blanket off the floor, draping it over the smaller boy’s shoulders. Silence stretched on, but Will let it, closing his fingers around the blanket’s edges and hunching against the cold.  His eyes never left Danny.

The teen  sat on the floor in front of him, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees.

Danny paused, looking down at his hands, then back up again. “My friends back home say I have a weird hero-wannabe thing going on. I know this seems weird, and abrupt, and probably very scary.” He lifted his open palms in a helpless shrug. “And I know I’m probably not the most comfortable guy to hang around,  but… You’re not the first person to get dragged into this place. From the pattern of things, you probably won't be the last.”

 


	7. A new Entry

Will inhaled shallowly, every breath feeling too dry as he stared down the being sitting in front of him. 

“What do you mean, I’m not the first?” he rasped, the fingers still wrapped around a handle still trembling. Danny rubbed the back of his neck,, green blood (too bright, in the gloom) still sliding thick and viscous down his forearm, soaking into the dark green jacket’s sleeve. 

“I mean… they’re hunting people.” He sighed again, avoiding the younger boy’s eyes. “I've heard them, and’ve seen the aftermath, but never… until you, I could never get the chance to interrupt until it was already too late.” 

Will watched the teen’s slim fingers pick at the worn hem of his own jeans, tugging a thread loose from the weave and twisting it until it bunched up. 

“You tried though?” 

Danny nodded at the soft whispered prompt, pulling straight the thread again with a few smoothing motions. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

He hated how wobbly his voice was, and his heart still thudded painfully against his ribs, a blunt rhythm reminding him how  _ mortal _ he was. How breakable. 

“I dunno. No real way to tell, I guess. You could always stay here, and give me directions and I can try to find your gu-” “-NO!” Danny blinked at the outburst, and Will shrank back from his terrified lean, tucking his chin back into the blanket. He stared at the floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The last trembles were beginning to fade from his fingers, but even Danny’s casual posture couldn't stop the tense nervousness from pulling his muscles into tight knots. 

“I mean, what if it comes back? I just... “ He stared at the carpet, shoulders straining with tension despite the warm sweatshirt half drowning him in warmth.  _ Please don’t leave me alone _ . “I wanna go with you.” 

“You sure?”

He nodded, and heard Danny sigh. 

“This isn’t an adventure, you know. You’d be safer in here.” 

Will shook his head. The soft hoodie brushed his cheek, and Will reached up to tug the hood up over his head. His stomach rumbled, and he realized that he could just grab something to eat, if he wanted. There was no fear that he'd be denied food, or put back out in the cold. The thing-that-looked-like-a-teen had just… given him the couch and blankets, no questions asked. Had gone out of his way to collect the kind of soup he liked, and found a sweater that fit him. 

Creepily inhuman or not, Danny HAD looked after him. They were weird partners in this weird world. They had to have each other’s backs. 

“Splitting up the party is always a bad idea.” Immediately, he felt foolish, and reflexively waited for the expected ‘Nerd’ insult thrown his way. 

“....Party?”

Will shrank a little into his blanket. 

“Like…. In D&D….”

Danny's slowly split into a wide grin

“Oh my god, you're a nerd.” 

Will ducked his face, looking away. He shouldn’t have said anything-

“Nononono,” Danny quickly corrected, waving his splayed hands. “That’s totally a good thing! Makes things so much easier to explain! What edition are you on? D&D, right?” 

Will watched him out of the corner of his eye. There were other editions?

“First.” 

“Cool, cool, What was your character?” 

Will turned to face him a bit more.

“....Wizard.” 

Danny nodded, muttering to himself. “...probably not a bard, or wizard, I punch too much for that, maybe a cleric? Nah, too holy- Ah!” Danny patted a fist into his open palm, looking up. 

“I’m basically a Druid, without the animal shapeshifting or summoning stuff. My element is primarily ice, but I’ve got some cool plasma stuff as well, and I can phase through stuff if I know it’s coming.” Will’s eyes widened, mouth falling open slightly. “Questions?” 

“What….But what are you? You can’t be human.” 

Danny hesitated. Will stared at him, curious expression slowly morphing into wariness.

“Shoot, sorry, I’m used to hiding it around people. Not a great option in this place, huh? So, um- Okay.” He watched the teen take a slow breath, leaning back against the floor in a casual sprawl like they hadn’t just been attacked a few minutes earlier. 

“People around my hometown called ‘em Ghosts, but they’re more like DnD Wraiths.” He saw Will tense up again, and waved his hand. “Don’t worry, it’s not a direct comparison. They don’t eat- Well, some of them do, but I don’t. Hm, this isn’t really helping, is it?” 

The mournful question actually did more to calm the boy than anything else that had been said so far. 

“So you’re a Wraith?”

“Half!” Danny grinned, raising a finger. “Only half. More like...uh….” He paused, trying to think of a good way to link it back to DnD. “My parents were trying to open a portal to another plane, and I got stuck at the halfway point, and it zapped me with a bunch of energy from that plane, so now I’m sorta… infused with it. I still have my human mind, but...some extra stuff, too.” 

“Oh.” 

Danny watched the kid mull that over, listening to something large crunch through the leaves outside. Still on the hunt, huh? 

“So, since you’re just half, that’s how you can do the other magic stuff?” 

He nodded.   
“Assuming you’re telling the truth…” Will began, the knife gently resting across one of his knees. “And this isn’t an elaborate trap to eat me or something…” Danny stuck out his tongue, a little sad that the boy didn’t echo the gesture. He could see from the focused expression that the kid’s mind was churning furiously, trying to make the connections and suspnd enough doubt to believe that the explaination was real. 

“Assuming all that… How come you’re helping me? What do you have to gain? And why are you here?” 

“Dude, I’m Chaotic Good. Or Neutral good. Haven’t parsed it out. Either way, I don’t want to hurt people, and I definitely don’t want kids getting eaten by creepy rotten monsters.” He nodded his head decisively, ignoring the faint scrape of long claws scaling the side of the building, passing their floor and reaching the roof. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, that it was focusing so much on their location, but it couldn’t really be helped at this point. 

“You didn’t say why you’re here.”

Danny blew a small raspberry at the question, laying back on the ground - trusting the wary boy wouldn’t stab him while he was vulnerable. 

“I didn’t plan to end up trapped. This little world - it shouldn’t exist. It’s  _ wrong _ . I stumbled across it because everyone else was avoiding the hell out of it, and once I got in, I couldn’t get out. It’s gross and I’m pretty sure those monsters are the reason I’m having such a hard time of things. So! I wanna blast the heck out of them, and blast a way out, and get you home, then blast this creepy trap to smithereens.” 

“You can do that?”

“Huh?”

“You can blow up… a whole world?” Danny tilted his head, still looking at the ceiling. 

“This isn’t a whole world, you know. It’s a weird pocket of rot where there shouldn’t be anything. Like…something died in one of the universe’s pores and we’re stuck in the worst ingrown hair ever. I found it from the Ghost Zone, and from finding actual people here, it looks like it’s connected to the real world as well. Er- the human world.” 

Will considered him, tapping the blunt side of his knife on the side of his wrist. 

“.....You said ‘those monsters’ like, plural.” 

Danny frowned, then nodded. 

“Pretty sure there’s more than one. At least.”

“Oh.” 

Will shivered, glancing toward the window. The fog still snaked fluid through skeleton branches, autumn leaves laying thick across the earth. Just one of those things was terrifying to think about.

“They don’t seem to coordinate at all.” Danny offered, unprompted. “And they’re more likely to fight than not, if they do meet. If that makes you feel any better.”

“Maybe a little.” Not much, though. Will couldn't stop himself from twitching at every noise from beyond the walls of this room, but… now that panic wasn't gripping his thoughts, logic said Danny… probably wasn't trying to kill him.

Danny craned his neck to examine the wound on his arm, the green glow of the fluid having slowly drained of light while they spoke. He rubbed at the mark, and most of it flaked away, leaving only a red and green jagged line, where his teeth had dug in. 

Wasn’t trying to kill him, Will reminded himself, shoving back the reflexive unease at knowing Danny’s teeth were far sharper than a person’s had any right to be. Half Wraith was still half human, right? Wraiths were… well, creepy for one thing. So that fit, at least. 

But Wraiths fed on Life Force. They weakened in sunlight. They certainly didn't have Druid elemental powers, so maybe that was the human side? But how did Danny even know about D&D? It was weird in the first place having a teenager know about that enough to actually describe things at that level. 

Unless he was somehow reading his mind to try to trick him? 

“So, you going to stay here or not?” 

Will looked up, tugging his sleeves lower to cover his knuckles. 

“N-no, I want to come.” Danny nodded, checking his wound one last time before climbing to his feet.

“Don't expect anything crazy from me.” He warned “most of my powers are a lot weaker than I'd like.” Danny frowned, still not sure why that was. 

Will licked his lips, standing up and adjusting his grip on the knife, not terribly happy with how small his own hands seemed. 

“So, can you, like, show me some of your magic?” He shrugged a shoulder, trying to be nonchalant. 

Danny chuckled. 

“How about when we get back, you can make me a monster manual entry?” He tugged his green stained sleeve down, offering a little grin. 

The door still loomed ominously, and Will felt tiny tremors crawling up his spine as Danny unlocked it again, the faint creak of hinges sending fear spiraling without any true effort. 

The gloom outside, when compared to their messy little safe haven, seemed to make his teeth ache from the *broken, rotted* feeling that oozed from it. 

 

He hadn't even stepped outside, but he already looked forward to getting back. 

“Ready?” 

Green eyes still bobbed like twin lanterns, but the wry grin and sharp little canine felt… almost reassuring. 

He might be in a world of monsters, but at least one of them was in his corner. 

 

….right?


	8. Home away from Home

The first step out into the hallway was gut-wrenchingly terrifying. 

The first step into the gloomy morning even more so. 

Still, if the chance for finding his way out of this world and back into his own - if this was what needed to be done, he’d do it. 

The two of them moved carefully through the infested world, skirting rusted cars and vine-wrapped light posts, carefully brushing away spiderwebs that sounded  fleshy when the strands snapped. Brick and metal lay twisted and scattered across cracked pavement.  Windows seemed to watch them with hidden eyes and a pressure of  _ knowing _ that felt more like a breath being held in anticipation than true silence. He found himself flinching at shadows, stepping as close to Danny as he could without actually treading on the teen’s heels. Everything in the city seemed to pulse wetly, gleaming despite the choking fog and delicate spores that drifted and settled on his shoulders and hair.

Will ignored them for the most part, until he noticed Danny’s coat wasn’t even touched by the pale dust that gathered like magnetic snow to his coat. As they ducked behind a hedge, Will paused to examine them closer. It took a beat, but he realized with mounting horror that the fuzz he had mistaken as a seed’s puff was actually slender little legs, slowly waving in his direction like a bug’s antennae.  With a startled gasp that he tried to silence into an alarmed hiccup, Will quickly brushed them out of his hair, shaking his head like a dog and quickly patting his arms free as well.  He twisted around, trying to crush the ones that had landed along his neck, turning his hood inside-out and flapping it frantically. 

Ice suddenly shot through his bones, body seizing up with a  _ Cold  _ that seemed to crawl past his flesh and into his very soul. The tiny spores leapt away, lifting up into the still air as if a magnet had just been switched on, repulsing them all at once. 

Will caught a glimpse of his hand, pale blue and almost  _ translucent  _ before Danny removed his palm from his shoulder, tugging the hood over his hair and straightening Will’s jacket with an apologetic expression. 

“Forgot they did that, sorry.” 

Will shivered, the deep cold only fading slightly as he tucked his hands inside his sleeves, shoving them into his pockets for good measure. He took a slow breath, trying to ignore the sudden crawling, itching sensation on his scalp and neck.

“Was that one of your powers?”

Danny offered a small smile and a nod, waving away a stubborn spore that tried drifting back onto Will’s hood. 

“I’ve gotta follow you, you know. I don’t know where your house is.” 

He exhaled slowly, swallowing and giving a determined nod. The streets still oozed with darkness despite the supposed ‘morning’, but he knew where he was. This was  _ his _ town. 

This time, when they set forward, Will led the way, trying to remember that the creatures could climb onto rooftops, and operated by sound and scent. It was nerve-wracking like nothing else to stalk down the middle of the street, carefully stepping over half-rotted whatever-it-was and edging around the remains of what might have been a car.  

He nearly tripped when a voice seemed to whisper in his ear, like a breath of a word was uttered as a person brushed past him.

“Did you hear that?” 

A hand on his back gently urged him forward, both of them wincing slightly when his foot shuffled loudly through a dense pile of leaves. 

“Keep moving.” 

Will nodded, giving their surroundings a furtive glance and pulling his hood a little tighter around his face. The streets grew more and more familiar, suburbia fading into the half-wooded street that led to his home. A winding, roundabout path, but it didn’t cut through the dense forest or taller buildings he normally would have squeezed past. The risk of being jumped on from above was one even Danny seemed wary of. 

His home was… 

Ugly, in this world. There was no other word for it. The same wretched vines had latched onto every wall, lined the window, and crept into the spaces between shingles of the roof. His heart, almost used to the quiet tension of the foggy landscape seemed to jump to attention. Will raised a sleeve, muffling his suddenly too-loud breaths into the soft cloth. 

“Where’d you leave it?” 

He looked up, ducking slightly when he realized Danny’s arm was poised half-hovered over his shoulders, like he was shielding from something - green eyes intent on something at the treeline behind his house. 

“Just outside the shed around back.” He whispered into the cloth, inhaling a slow breath. “There’s extra shells inside the shed, on the table. I- I dropped a lot of them when I started running. I think Mom keeps some extra ones on top of the fridge, but her gun always stayed outside.” 

In the distance, with a tinny sort of ring like the sound was coming through a telephone line, he heard something like the low roll of thunder. Danny nodded tightly, keeping his eyes pinned to the treeline as the two of them slipped toward his porch, and into his house.

Worn brass felt rusted, flaking grit off into his palm as the knob turned and creaked open. Will licked his lips, grateful when Danny stepped in before him, scouting the house with slow, meticulous steps. Nothing popped out at them, nothing suddenly collapsed or exploded or grew teeth to tear his arm off. Despite the spongy rot bubbling up between old floorboards, and the strange foamy ooze that seemed to have slid and hardened against the wallpaper, the inside felt- 

Well, not normal, really. It was still a disgusting reflection of reality, but feeling this - seeing the familiar furniture and walls did a lot to calm the terrified thudding of his heart. 

“I’m going to try to find the gun. You-” Danny trailed off, turning back to watch Will rub his sweating palms off on his jeans, hand on the back door. The teen glanced back to the forest, then stepped back into the house, surveying the kitchen, then the living room.  Danny opened a few cupboards, finally deciding on the cupboard to the side of the couch. He lifted his arm, tugging his sleeve up in a gesture Will recognized would result in a bloody bite.    
Will quickly looked away. He absently picked the phone off the hook to distract himself, listening for a dial tone. A flash of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he slowly turned toward the back door. 

A low, rumbling growl purred out from behind the door, knob slowly turning.    
Will gasped, flailing a little as hands swept up under his armpits, spinning him around. 

“Alright, inside. Be quiet.”    
Will stumbled to his knees, crawling into the green-streaked cupboard, curling up tightly and twitching a little as he heard the door creak open just before the cupboard doors softly shut him in darkness. 


	9. Hope and Holidays

Cold static whispered through his ears, the throb of blood pulsing over his brain making every other moment half-muted in his ears. Danny’s soft footsteps pressed into the crackling carpet, the rasping breath of the  _ creature _ slowly approaching. 

Will couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, but he knew they were in the same room, and Danny had shuffled close enough to the cupboard that he blocked out the sliver of dim light peeking into his hiding space from between the doors. 

 

“Hey there, ugly.” The monster creaked back warningly at Danny’s low voice, the hiss slithering down Will’s spine like a cold finger. 

“How about we take this outside?”

A floorboard creaked, and the cupboard shifted just slightly when Danny bumped against it. 

“No? Alright, suit yourself.” 

Something sharp and electric pierced through the haze, setting Will’s teeth on edge like the scrape of metal on a glass plate. He flinched, and the  _ scream  _ of the creature only worsened the full-body twitch. 

He heard Danny bark a half-aborted word, and the wet slap of something fleshy striking something else. Heavy thumps of footsteps retreated, and the cold chitter followed until the back door slapped against the side of the house, then again into its frame. Will held himself tightly curled in the dark, waiting. 

Breathing. 

He couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it? 

Some small part of him urged to get up - to find somewhere safer than a rickety old table that had seen better days.  He listened hard, but could hear nothing. Not even the wind in branches was audible past his forcefully soft breaths. Will swallowed, raising his hand delicately and carefully -  _ carefully! -  _ pushing the cupboard door open. 

Just a crack. 

Just enough to peer around the living room and listen hard to the complete lack of sound. Alright. 

He crept out, hands shaking more than he’d be proud to admit, and edged across the empty space until he he could get into the hallway. He flicked the light switch without even thinking, and a sound-feel sort of ‘pop’ bounced through the back of his head. He frowned, flipping the light down and up again.

The pop was louder, and skipped along the wires like echoes in a dark cave. 

Will wandered down the hall, brushing his fingers over the lamp and feeling it ‘pop’ as well. Something…. Something strange pulled him toward his room. Some spot of warmth, or movement in the air. He looked around, swatting at some lacy spider webs hanging from the ceiling as he brushed his fingers over a lamp to feel-hear the little ‘pop’ once more.  His tape player popped and ‘hummed’ if he could call it such a thing. There was this sort of… energy, sizzling on the edges of his senses. Like the careful reach to cup a flying firefly without hurting it, he could almost keep the sparks alive by thinking about them. 

Still, the feeling of the room persisted. 

What was…? There! 

A spot on the wall seemed to glow faintly orange, almost… breathing. The cobwebs and delicate membranes around it wavered with each slow inhale and exhale. Through it, he could almost hear-

“ _ Will?” _

Will clenched his fists, looking anxiously at the door, at his window, then back at the strange spot on the decaying wall. He flexed his fingers, sidling up toward it and tentatively hovering his hand over the strange spot. It was… noticeably warmer, there. He could almost smell cheap detergent and his mom’s perfume, or maybe he could actually smell it. 

_ “Will?”  _  His mom’s voice again, he knew he wasn’t imagining it! 

Will’s fingers twitched slightly, and then he pushed forward, fingers splayed against the strange  _ give _ of something that should have been solid. Membranes stretching with horrible fleshy twanging noises, and the slow increase in heat before-

A scream split the air, and Will yanked his hand back, curling it like lightning to his chest and stumbling over himself to dive for the closet. Footsteps were faint, but audible as they fled. What just- What had happened? 

He curled in the wet darkness of the closet, flexing the fingers that, for a moment, had been  _ warm _ again. He hesitated several times, ears still straining for evidence that it hadn’t been an elaborate trick - that whoever had screamed really wasn’t attracting the monster. 

When nothing immediately jumped out at him, Will carefully stood again. He didn’t even have to touch his tape player to flick the ‘spark’ alive again, and the lamp seemed just as happy to pop back to life. The room was still dark. Still terrifying, but… with the life humming through it in a weird, distant way, it also felt… 

A bit like safety.  A bit like home. 

 

\---

 

Will listened to the faint breathing of the wall, keeping the sparks alive just for the heck of it for several more minutes, before a deep sort of exhaustion started pulling at him.  The passage of time felt so unreal, and he didn’t really notice as the cold, shivery feeling started to return. Numbness creeping up his fingertips, breaths starting to appear in serrated gasps. 

He finally let go of the warmth, the spark of life in his electronics.  He crawled back into the closet, closing the doors and tucking himself into a corner in a frail attempt to warm up and, maybe, get some more sleep. He still had to wait for Danny to come back. Still needed that gun, right?

Where had he gone, anyway? 

His breaths started to even out and without realizing, Will had  fallen asleep. 

 

\--

 

“Will? Oh Will, sweetheart, wake up.”

His mom’s voice was warm, the touch on his cheek comforting. He could see his brother leaning against his doorframe, a small smile half-hidden by shadows. Warm lights blanketed his room in a loving glow, his mom’s smile practically angelic, dark curls highlighted in bronze and gold. 

“It’s Christmas...” 

He pushed himself upright, a yawn threatening the muscles of his jaw as he tried to pull himself out of the soft, warm cocoon of blankets still beckoning him toward sleep. His mom stood, stepping to the side as he kicked away his blankets and slid to the floor. 

The carpet sank plush under his toes, soft in a way he didn’t recall it ever being. The wallpaper seemed fresh and perfect, the golden glow of the hallway perfectly devoid of any pools of shadow that their lamps normally lent. 

Through the window, he saw the morning sun cast a pale echo of light over rotting vines and decayed trees sprawled over their driveway. A fine web of spider silk fluttered in a nonexistent breeze, and a dark shape crept through the fog. 

It was alright, though. 

It was Christmas.

Some half-aware part of his brain knew it was a dream, but the smell of nutmeg and warm vanilla beat out the smell of rot and fear sweat any day. He trailed his fingers over a pine tree, watching absently as it shed needles into the soft carpet. 

“Don’t you want to open your presents?” He smiled up at his brother, accepting the small package and carefully picking at the tape. He laughed when Jonathan bumped their shoulders together, obediently tearing the newspaper open. He opened the box, and plucked the cassette from the top. 

He flipped it over, the letters swimming in his vision, but he  _ knew _ what they said. The Clash. Judas Priest, Foreigner. The mix tape his brother had made for him. He turned to ask if he’d extended the list, but the tape  _ changed _ in his hand. He blinked down at the cold plastic sitting in his palm, the glint of metal and a harsh chemical smell overwhelming the smell of christmas. 

“Will?”  His mom’s voice was soft, worried in his ear. 

When he looked up, Jonathan was gone. The trappings of christmas were gone. The golden glow was fading fast, wood and wallpaper warping under crawling vines that sprawled and dug into any surface it could reach. Green fluid leaked between his fingers, oozing out from the box cutter in his hands. A too-familiar rattle-hiss crawled past the living room’s window pane. 

A speck of green dripped to the floor. 

A speck of something dripped onto his cheek. Warm.  

He looked up. 

He saw-

 

\----

 

Will jerked with a gasp, the darkness of the cupboard still surrounding him, the chemical smell of Danny’s blood still sharp.  A faint spot of glow caught his eye, and Will twisted carefully to peer at his shoulder. Green smeared in a rough handprint across the back of his jacket, and he tried to blame his strange dream on that. 

The heart throbbing in his throat would beg to disagree. 

He ruffled his hair, feeling marginally better but still awfully cold. Danny had helped by bringing out a fire, right? With… a wire and a battery. He lit some candles. 

Oh, but the smell would attract the creatures, wouldn’t it? 

His stomach twisted strangely, and with a pang Will realized it was probably hunger. He stood up as quietly as he could in the dark space, cracking his closet door open. He edged out, eyeing the sudden plethora of lamps all over his room. What on earth…? 

Realization suddenly sparked. 

His mom. 

That’s who screamed. 

That’s who said his name. 

He slid back against the edge of his closet, staring up at the lamps with sightless eyes. This wasn’t… 

He wanted to laugh, or- cry, or something. Danny had been telling the truth. The world wasn’t this awful place, it was just… somewhere else. Some other dimension, and his real dimension was fine. He could hear them - could feel the warmth of it, through the strange wall. 

There was still hope. 


	10. Wizardry

Will hovered for a long time in front of the shivering, living spot on the wall, listening to his mother's voice sob in another world.    
She asked questions - of course she did - but the shiver-pop he'd felt when he touched the lamps apparently not showing as strongly with each new touch.  He couldn’t…. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to answer her questions through the lights. The flickering was too random for him to control.    
She believed in him. Though he spoke, then shouted, then screamed into the slowly-closing weak spot between the words, he could tell that she was aware of him, even if she didn’t respond to his words.  The fleshy barrier in the wall finally closed, scarring over with ooze and vines in front of his eyes. 

Will stayed in his room for a long time, trying desperately to sink his hand into the scar, to try to force the ‘ping’ to happen again. Sometimes, it worked. Most of the time, it didn’t, and the only feeling he could get from the other side was a persistant feeling that  _ of course his mom was still there, she’d never leave him _ . 

He pulled the knit hat down lower on his head, tightening the warm sweater Danny had given him. His fingers were almost painfully cold, and holding his knuckles to his neck almost felt like burning.  Will gave one last longing look at the spot in the wall - at the place he’d been able to hear his mom. 

Finally, he gave into the aching cold, and scuffled through the house toward the kitchen. 

He found the batteries easily enough, candles were next to the batteries, and scrounging for wire was easier than he thought it’d be. The cherry-red pinprick of light seemed to call to him, and the first time the wick caught ablaze sent a wash of satisfaction and  _ comfort _ through his soul. He cradled the little candle in his palms, a tiny smile pricking at his lips. The biting cold fled his fingers and cheeks, air clearing a weight from it that he didn’t even realize had been there. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, half hypnotised by the flame, but he was aware enough to jerk out of it when he heard a rustle of leaves outside the back door. Will padded back to the cupboard as quietly as he could, wedging himself back inside and gently blew out the candle. The curl of smoke vanished into the darkness as he closed the doors behind him, savoring the last of the quiet peace it offered him. 

He closed his eyes, slowing his breaths and trying to just… wait.

The whistle-creak of a monster’s groan croaked outside the back door, but the rustling leaves passed on, leaving the house alone. 

He waited. 

His breaths felt too loud, so he slowed them, gentled them. His felt a faint chill, and shifted around to tuck his knees up, stretching his sweater to pull it over his legs, resting his head down on them.

He waited. 

Sometimes he heard soft echoes of movement, like a voice murmured two rooms over. The barrier must be thin here - for him to hear so much of the other world.  He almost heard words at times, different voices. He recognized his mother’s, her intonation, the soft rasp of her voice. 

He waited. 

He hummed the songs he knew, stumbling the words and repeating them until he could get them right. When a monster sounded like they were approaching, he silenced himself, eyes closed, ears open. 

He waited. 

He lit the candle again, what felt like hours later - though it could have been minutes, or days. Everything seemed to flow together in the darkness. Even in the soft, warm light cast by the flame, time seemed to ooze past him. Yet, the world seemed just a little but clearer as well. Cleaner. He didn’t know if it was a dream or his actual ears, but the voices-from-another-room seemed to clear just a bit more, until he felt like he was eavesdropping outside a room where the walls were just barely too thick to do it properly. 

Ding! 

The sound jerked him out of his haze, a bell cut through the stillness and resonated breezily into silence. Will pushed his way out of the cupboard, blinking as he realized everything had changed again. Furniture had been shoved around, and… lights, of all things, had been put up around the room. 

Around the house, actually, christmas lights were strung from corner to corner, looping low enough that he’d be able to brush against them easily. Nothing at all like his mom’s normal light touch. 

Will crept up to stand, reaching up to brush a hand against one of the lights. They looked….clean, somehow. New. When he touched it, he felt the little ‘click-pop’ of it twitch through his teeth. 

Will furrowed his brows, tracing his fingers over them as he walked through the house. Something about them…. The longer he touched them, the more they hummed, until he could feel their little shudders even when he wasn’t touching them anymore. 

Will stared at one dead, blue-colored plastic bulb,  _ feeling _ the life behind it. The electricity, a spark he could hold in place. 

A spark he WAS holding in place. 

Oh wow. 

Will looked up to a light far above him, reaching out and trying - feeling - it popped, hummed, and steadied. His smile grew, and he stepped carefully toward his room, waking up each bulb along the way, something in him straining to hold them alive, but managing nonetheless. He couldn’t see the light, but he could  _ feel _ it. He knew it was there, in the real world. 

A laugh bulbbling up in his throat, he realized this was it! He could try to communicate like this! Will rushed into his room, spotting the lights and pointing at them, reaching out with his heart and blooming each bulb to life. They didn’t flicker, perking up and dimming at his command. 

He really did laugh, the excitement singing and bouncing along with his step as he climbed up on the bed, finger swinging one way and the other, back and forth around the half-circle of lamps to command them like- 

He was a wizard! He could do cross-dimensional MAGIC! This was so cool. 

The corner caught his eye, the small scar pulsing quietly, orange light dully visible through the small slit that had opened up. It had to be a portal. He’d  _ felt _ his hand push through, and his mom had screamed - she’d seen it on the other side! Will hopped down from the bed with a thump, rubbing his palms together nervously. A few strides brought him to the living wall, and he reached out. 

His palm settled against the warm, shifting flesh. It must have been flesh, he didn’t know anything else that twitched and relaxed like that. He pushed gently, and it eased in under his hand. He was a wizard. He could do cross-dimensional magic. He could do THIS. He could just push his way back into the real world, and everything would be fine again. 

A low growl, and Will jerked his hand back, otherwise freezing stiffly where he stood. 

A dark shape passed in front of his window, hunched over and human-shaped, a thick, bulbous head swinging around blindly. Flaps opened up, like a flower unfurling, and he was close enough to see the red mouth opening wide - far, far too wide, shuddering as it inhaled. No - as it  _ scented for him _ . 

Will held still, watched it lean over into a four-legged crouch, shambling away with a gait far too human, and far too  _ inhuman _ for comfort. 

His hand was still half-outstretched as the murmur of voices faded and the scar relaxed and closed again before his eyes. 

….Oh. 

It opened when… one of those things was close. 

That made an uncomfortable amount of sense. 

He eyed the scar, drawing his hand to his chest. 

But… the barrier was still thin, here. He could still hear the soft voices - less understandable now, and when he concentrated, he could tell the volume was fading slowly…

The fire! The flame had always made him feel better, more  _ real _ . The voices seemed louder after a flame, and the first time he heard the weird echo was after leaving Danny’s place - after holding a candle for the first time. 

Will straightened, glancing again out the window before marching back toward the cupboard where he’d left the candle. The make-shift lighter still hung heavy in his pocket. 

He had electricity. He had fire. 

He was a friggin Wizard, and he had a plane to jump. 


	11. He would Protect

Were they still hunting him?  He couldn't tell. They'd seemed repulsed by the very scent of his blood, yet dogged his steps regardless. 

Danny panted, ectoplasm dripping down his wrist and into a bucket of white paint. He stirred it in with a brush, leaning his forehead against the disgusting wallpaper and trying to steady himself from the blood loss. 

How long had he been there? 

He painted the room in broad strokes, cutting himself with each new bucket, the haze cut through by ectoplasm and cold pain. White paint spattered the musty carpet, dripped down his arm, stung like fire in the long gash he’d given himself. 

It was fine. It would heal. 

He could feel their sightless gaze on him, bared his teeth at them through the wide windows of the room he’d claimed. They hung in the branches, long limbs outstretched, bodies crouched and coiled and ready to spring. He closed the windows, bristling as their faces snapped open into a dozen mouths screaming enough to make the glass shiver under his palms. . 

The fog swallowed them, and Danny breathed in paint fumes and exhaustion. 

\--

In the distance, too close, far too close, he could feel the walls of this rotted place ripple. Like the Lair of a ghost disturbed, it shivered and focused inward, and the creatures aborted their harassment of his room to investigate. Danny just continued to hoard things, books, food, supplies. Anything he could think of. 

He just had to survive. It’d been enough time that he’d tried to fly to the edge of the town, trying to see how far the rot spread. But… like a dome, or a bit of the universe curving in on itself, the forest he flew out of just turned into the forest he flew  _ into _ , and all roads out of the city led back into it. 

He’d leveled part of the forest with his own screams, tearing apart two of the bony, rotted creatures with his bare hands. 

It was so cold. 

\---

He investigated the ripples, chased down the creatures as they fled to its source. Deep into the bowels of a building just as torn apart as the rest of the world. They ignored him when it called, and he slinked close enough to see them surround a gaping hole in the wall. Close enough to watch a man push through the fleshy barrier. 

A human! 

He was in a bulky safety suit, a light sweeping the area, staticky voices asking questions on his radio. Behind him, a chain dragged loud and heavy.    
The creatures were silent, poised, waiting for some silent sign. His light swept over them, and Danny realized he probably didn’t recognize them as anything but part of the scenery. 

He stood without thinking, stepping forward and reaching out to call to him. To tell him to go back inside. To  _ run _ . 

The light snapped up to him, caught his eyes (glowing, green) and his pose (hand outstretched, pointing?) and Danny watched the realization and horror bloom on his face before he could even speak, the light shuddering for just a moment as the creatures swarmed in on him, mouths opening like countless flowers, teeth gripping and worrying and  _ tearing _ . 

“No!” 

He’d tried jumping in, ectoblasts lighting up his fists, burning the dark flesh of the creatures, but there were too many of them, and they turned on him just as quickly. He felt their shrieks just as he felt their teeth split open his skin, ragged furrows opening up over his neck and shoulder  in neat triangles - in the shape of those fleshy petals. They reared back, never taking more than one bite, but there were plenty of them. A few “just one bite”s was far too many. 

Danny retreated, intangibility weak and flickering, invisibility doing the same. His blood left a glowing trail back up the building’s many floors, a few of the, doglike versions of the creatures following him back up. 

They chittered at him, but hung back once he passed the heavy metal gates.    
Danny barely made it back to his apartment, barely managed to shut the door before his mind faded into senseless exhaustion. 

He couldn’t sleep.    
He would heal. 

He still dreamed of the man’s screams as he was torn apart. 

\---

Danny really should reign in the hero complex. 

This time, he’d been able to dive in before they’d killed the suited man. Acting fast enough to break his tether and steal him away. Not fast enough to prevent injury. 

The man bled behind them as Danny dragged him through the fog, and he could hear the creatures on their heels. If he turned, he could see the dogs padding just inside the mist’s swirling visibility. If he turned, he could have watched the humanoid ones leaping from tree to tree, or lumbering between the trunks like deformed apes, half-galloping, half-skipping, always tracking them. 

He didn’t turn. 

He dragged the man up to his apartment, patched the bites to his neck, leg, as best as he could. The man shook in fear every movement Danny made, flinching at every glance. Soft words did little to soothe him, and the only time he left the apartment, he was welcomed back by a baseball bat to the face. 

He’d  _ felt _ his skull break, awareness sticking around just long enough to listen to the man limp out the door. 

Just long enough to kick the door closed, and to hear the man’s  screams join the rattling ones  that rose up to greet him. 

He would heal. 

He always did. 

And he almost didn’t.

\----

A week later, and the majority of his powers hadn’t returned. His healing had slowed. The energy for shields and flight and even his screams, had peetered out. Survival now included conserving his energy, carefully figuring out what he could and couldn’t eat. 

The rot of it turned his stomach, and after a hopeful can of canned sausages, he spent several hours puking out his guts until black chunks spattered the ground far below his apartment window. One of the creatures slunk up to investigate, and he bitterly spit the last of his stomach on their head. It startled and growled at him, and he snapped the window shut. 

He would heal. 

\---

His travels were far careful after that. Edging around the creatures became habit. In a one-on-one fight, he found he could still take them- His hands were still strong enough to pierce their rotted skin, and if he conserved his energy, an ectobolt or two wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. 

Eating  _ hurt _ , even when he stuck to soup. His throat and stomach felt raw. All of the meat products had been thrown from his abode, greedily eaten by the creatures outside. He could hear them at night, when darkness bled like ink across the world. 

He still couldn’t sleep. 

He would heal.

\---

Danny had been scavenging when he felt the  _ ripple _ . It had been…. Not from the north? 

He followed a creature as it loped toward the source, keen ears picking up the faint echo of a gunshot. Or was he imagining things? Whoever or whatever had entered this place certainly gave the creatures the run-around. They packed up around an old house on the edge of town, crawling through doorways and over the walls,  the vines thickening and spreading to encompass it more thoroughly. 

He realized with an uncomfortable shift that the creatures and the vines were more than just cause-and-effect. They were… connected, somehow, deeper than that. 

One of them seemed to have picked up a scent, bounding away from the rest.    
He cast a nervous glance at a slowly curling vine spreading up the building’s wall, and followed the straggler. 

\---

The boy… wasn’t what he expected. 

Then again, he didn’t know what to expect. Either way, he certainly wouldn’t have guessed he’d find a skinny kid, barely in Middle School, half-dead in a very human way. Despite all that, though, the kid was… spunky. 

Well, that was a weird word. Not lively, but maybe… witty? Cautious? Possessing a  tongue that could rival a knife in both its silver color and sharpness? What could he say, he was charmed. 

He wasn’t surprised to be brandished with a knife, but certainly was surprised when the boy opened up a little. 

It was so  _ good _ to talk about normal human things again, after so long. (How long?) 

It was good to have someone to protect, who stuck to his side and let him shield them. Who might be wary, but still accepted the little gifts he offered. Comfort, warmth,  that clean feeling only flames could give him. The boy even let him cook for him, and just about  _ glowed _ with relief. 

It satisfied something he didn’t realize he’d been starved of. 

His eyes glowed a little more green. 

And for the first time in a long time… 

He slept. 

\----

The next time he felt the world ripple, he was already sprinting out the back door of the boy’s house, creature on his heels. It swung away from him, and he sprinted after it, hope springing anew that he might actually be able to save, whoever it was who had stumbled into this awful place. 

The boy was safe, marked with his blood. They’d avoid it if he didn’t draw attention to himself, just as they generally avoided the room he’d painted with it. 

_ Please, let me be fast enough _ . 

The boy had trusted him, let him protect him, let him provide for him, and let him fight for him. 

His eyes flashed with green light, strides becoming longer, lighter. 

He was Phantom. 

He would  _ Protect. _


	12. Draw your line in the sand

He lit a tea candle, and he hugged it close to his chest as the  dark pressure of the world lifted once more. 

Will could feel the christmas lights  the moment they were plugged in - the electric potential, hovering so close. The candle was lit by his feet, cupboard closed tightly to keep in the smell and heat. 

_ “Will.”  _

He kept his eyes closed, throat tightening in joyous despair. 

_ “Are you here?” _

She was here. She knew he was here, and she was trying to communicate in the only way they knew how. 

He reached out to the lights, sending  _ potential _ rising through them, until the pops became one sound, and he  _ felt _ them light, on the other side. She gasped, the sound echoing metallic as if the lights themselves had turned into tiny speakers playing back her voice. 

_ “Ok, good good good good good. Alright. Um.” _ He stifled a choked laugh, clenching his hands to his mouth and keeping his eyes closed, straining to make sure he heard her.  _ “Blink- Once for yes, and twice for no. Ok, can you do that for me sweetie? Can you-” _

His mom was so damn smart, his heart ached with appreciation. He sent a glow, barely cognizant of the hot tears streaking over his knuckles, fingers still digging into his cheeks to keep the silence. 

_ “Oh, good. Good boy, good boy.” _ Any other time, he’d have whined at her for treating him like a dog, but her voice had broken, straining to hold back tears. He choked on a small sob behind his palms, hating to see her upset, but so  _ so _ happy that he could at least talk to her - that there WAS a connection to the real world, still. 

_ “Baby, I need to know.” _ It hurt to listen to her breaths so ragged.  _ “Are you alive?” _

Oh- 

Yes, yes he was alive. He sent a glow, as strong as he could, breath catching as he tried to inhale, the stuccato hitch of his breath just a moment away from breaking. She must have been so worried, to think he was dead. How long had he been gone? Her breath of relief was so clear. 

_ “Are you safe?”  _

Will swallowed tightly, hesitating.  The moment drew out, and he could feel the guilt creeping up, even as he reached out to answer. 

Two blinks. 

No, he wasn’t safe here. 

_ “I need to know where to find you.” _ Her voice was commanding, straightforward.  _ “Honey, where are you?”  _  An order if he ever heard one, but he couldn’t… that wasn’t a yes or no question.  _ “Can- Can you tell me where you are? Can you-” _  How was he supposed to-?

_ “Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do!”  _

Her throat sounded as tight as his felt, and despair began to sink in once more. How? How was he supposed to?

_ “Please.”  _

“Mom, I don’t know how.” His voice was barely a whisper, mumbled against his own palm, knees practically up around his ears. 

He felt the candle burn out, its purifying warmth slowly fading from his surroundings. The crisp control of the ball of lights faded with it. Or, perhaps it was his sobs, wrenched out of him in muffled bites of sound jumping past his helpless and failing grab for self control. 

His awareness of the other world, its light - its life….

It drained away, eaten by the hungry cold. 

He listened to her movements as long as he could, tucked away in the little storage space. 

Will let out a shuddering exhale, curling his arms in tightly around himself, tucking his knees up in an instinctual gesture to stay warm. 

“Thank you.” He whispered into his knees, his heart still warm despite the world. His mom knew about him - knew he was alive. Even though he couldn’t think of a thing that she could do to help him get out, it was still good - so good, to be known. 

Will leaned his head back, glancing toward the opposite wall. 

He furrowed his brows. 

Black fluid was oozing up out of the wall in little splotches on the wall. Alarm came first, and Will quickly shut the door of his cupboard, covering his mouth and trying to be as quiet and still as possible. Nothing happened, and he risked leaning forward to look out the crack, every scary story he’d ever seen telling him the moment he did this, something would look back at him. 

But nothing did. 

He watched as the black oozed out, shiny and oily, but unmistakably letters. 

“Oh.” 

The word was breathed out, and Will climbed out of his hidey hole, picking up the half-burnt candle. They were letters, under each light. She was trying to let him spell out…  She could hear the faint echoes of her whispered voice, not quite audible, but present. 

“Mom, you’re a genius.”  He didn’t bother hiding the admiration in his voice, a tiny grin on his face as he fumbled together his makeshift lighter, the wire burning cherry red for a moment before the wick smoked and caught flame.  

_ “Okay baby, talk to me, talk to me, where are you?”  _

He realized he… didn’t actually have any good answers for that. He didn’t know WHERE exactly he was, only that it was a creepy, deadly reflection of his living room. Overlapping, somehow. 

_ “R! Good, good, good… That’s good, come on, come on.”  _

He pointed to the lights, listening to her spell it out aloud. Something tickled the edges of his senses. 

_ “-I-G-H-T-H-E-R-E.. Right here. I- i… I don’t know what that means?  _ ” He tuned her out, listening to the rush of… wind? Or…  the hairs on his arms stood on end, and he edged back toward the cupboard. 

All at once, chaos erupted. 

Danny burst through the back door, a bundle in his arms. He kicked the door shut and fumbled to lock it, shouting at Will, “Get to me! Now!” 

Will froze, fear and alarm tensing all his muscles down. He realized the rushing sound had evolved, limbs tearing through dead leaves and underbrush now crawling up over the house, scratching at the doors. 

“What’s going on?” He wasn’t proud of the tremble in his voice, but it was either that or pee his pants in fear, as hundreds of the monsters converged on their house, crawling over the walls like ants. 

“Tell them to stay out! This is your house! Tell them!” 

“What?” 

“Tell them!” Will recoiled as Danny rounded on him, blood streaking his face, eyes blazing green. The air felt alive with electricity, buzzing in his hair and over his skin in what he could only think of as an  _ aura. _

“Stay out?” 

Scratches on the door, and Will turned fearfully toward the front door - he remembered one of them unlocking it last time. 

“Look at me.”  Wet, sticky hands grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look into swirling, acid-green lights. “Believe they cannot enter without your permission. Tell them to stay out. The doors are closed to them.” 

Will pulled away, smelling blood and… whatever that was, the candle in his hand flickering with the quick movement. He could hear their shrieking outside, and the scratching on glass. Why hadn’t they just broken in? Unless they couldn’t. Unless they truly were…

“Stay. Out.” He demanded, turning toward the windows. There was a pause, and he took a small step back. A spot on the wall started rippling, peeling back like lips away from gums, or a surgery with invisible tools. Through the thin membrane, he could see the faint glow of Christmas lights, all different colors strung across the room.    
The dots connected together faster than he thought possible. 

The thin spots. The monsters could travel through. That’s how they found him. That’s how they brought him here. How he could get out. 

How they could get in. 

Mom. 

“ _...what should I do? _ ” Her worried voice had trailed off a while ago, and she was probably waiting anxiously in the living room while this swarm converged. 

He turned toward the wall, clutching his candle to his chest and reaching out to the  _ life _ in the bulbs. 

Fleshy sounds behind him. He turned to see the portal twisting, pushing out and sinking in like something was leaning its face against the other side of a thin cloth. Or a thin skin. His connection to the lights flared, and he stepped back, whispering under his breath “Stay out, stay out, stay out, you’re not welcome here. Out. Out Out.” 

He could hear his mom scream, and his heart dropped into his feet. He was right. They could go through to the real world. She was in danger. 

He could hear Danny mess with something wet, and Will stumbled, the candle falling from his hands and flickering out as it bounced and spilled wax across the rotted carpet. 

The thin spot rippled again, and stilled. The Christmas lights weren’t visible behind it anymore - or perhaps they had simply turned off. Either way, though he could hear the monsters prowling outside, breathing hisses and low growls , they didn’t seem to be actively trying to get inside any longer. 

Will turned to see what Danny was doing, hoping it involved some sort of weapon, and not the… 

He wiped his cheek off on his sleeve, eyes widening. It had been blood. 

He edged into the kitchen, wiping off his cheeks, anxiously watching Danny crouch over some dark figure on the ground. A low moan, and one of the limbs shifted. It was- 

Those were jeans. 

That was a person. 

He rushed around Danny, a small part of him relieved that the teen wasn’t eating the person or something crazy, but the rest of him squashed it, branding it as ridiculous. 

“Get some bandages. Try to find enough candles to boil water. We need to clean her wounds.” 

Danny’s voice cut in before he could ask how he could help, and Will rushed to find the supplies, jumping every time a monster so much as moved within viewing distance of the windows. 

The person sobbed, choking on something wet while Danny shushed them, murmuring soft platitudes. Will grabbed all the candles he could remember mom having, taking out the first aid kit from the kitchen (not brave enough to grab the one tucked in her actual room. That was too far away from Danny.

He set the supplies down, grimacing as the plastic first aid kit opened and stretched and tore a weird sort of skin over the plastic. Thankfully, everything inside seemed fairly clean. 

“Water first.” 

Oh, right. 

Will lit the candles, pulling out the least-disgusting pot he could find and worked to scrub it off before finding the emergency water under the sink and dumping it inside to heat up. 

It took… longer than he would have liked for those meagre candles to heat up a pot of water, all while the person twitched and gasped, making low noises of pain every time Danny did… whatever he was doing. 

Will finally plucked up the urge to look away from the water, gaze traveling hesitantly up the bloodied hand, over… oh, lord, a horribly gashed arm, up to a face that he didn’t recognize at first, thick furrows in neat lines tearing into the skin on her cheeks and neck.  The freckles gave it away. 

Will was glad he was already on his knees, or he’d have sunk down to them in shock. 

“....Barb?” 


	13. No rest for the Wicked

When Will first arrived in this miserable world, he thought he knew fear.

The sound of a breath that wasn’t his own, feet crunching through dead leaves behind him. That raspy, whining noise that bubbled up from the throat of a creature that had no right to exist. It had scared him senseless, only a few days ago.

Now, though… a self-described supernatural being was crouched over the mauled, twitching body of someone he knew, while innumerable monsters circled the house, tap-tapping on windows, testing the doors. He shivered, and realized he’d been completely right to be afraid, before. Every part of this world was terrifying.

“Your name’s Barb, then?” She made a small sound, and Danny nodded, continuing the delicate plucking of stretchy strands of black goo away from her torn flesh. Will shivered, flicking his eyes back to the pot when he realized he could see the twitch of muscle inside her arm..  
He steadied the make-shift stove he’d set up on the kitchen floor, candles under the propped-up pot of water. He tried not to look at the dark fluid finding trails in the linoleum texture, slowly creeping away from its source.

“-in the kit?” Will looked up, guiltily realizing he hadn’t been listening.  
Danny held his gaze for a moment, and repeated himself.  
“Do you have any needle or thread in the first aid kit?”  
“Oh, let me check.”

Will rifled through it and found a tiny spool and a thin, curved needle tucked in one of the corners. Danny took it without a word, wet fingers threading the needle in a few tries, then set it to the side.  
“Scissors?”

He climbed to his feet, opening the junk drawer to retrieve the silver shears. He opened and closed them a few times before turning them over to offer the handle to Danny.  
Instead of snipping the thread, he started on Barb’s pant leg, just above the knee. Will watched him work, jumping when she arched her back with a half-gasped curse, pulling the limb away. Danny grabbed her knee, holding it down and continuing to carefully cut the fabric, peeling it away.  
The sounds creaking out of her throat were almost worst than the shrieks of the creatures outside. It made his hair stand on end, discomfort and restlessness sliding over him like an itchy blanket.

  
“Hey Barb.” He whispered, not really confident enough to speak any louder. Brown eyes turned to look into his, and he offered a wane, forced smile. Her hand twitched up in something like a wave, and he wiggled a little closer, glad she was able to understand him.  
She was probably so scared.

  
“Danny’s an okay guy, alright? I know he’s really creepy-” A small huff from the teen in question, “-But I’m sure he’s trying his best to fix you up. I- I’m here, and I’ve been able to send messages to Mom, through the lights.”  
Her lips moved, and Will leaned in closer, trying to understand what she was rasping.  
“...dreaming…”  
He touched her hand, twitching just slightly when weak fingers curled around his.  
“Sorry, This isn’t…. You’re not dreaming right now.”

  
He tried looking only at her eyes, tried to avoid staring at the dark gash splitting open her cheek, or the ragged furrows across the side of her neck, but his eyes seemed magnetized to it, drawn inexorably down toward meat that shouldn’t be exposed to the air. He tried squeezing her hand to stop the shaking in his own, before realizing that it wasn’t him shaking at all.  
Her face was ashen pale, muscles shaking in minute trembles, eyes glazed and staring at a point beyond his ear.  
All at once, her muscles relaxed, head lolling to the side.  
“H-Hey!” Will leaned forward, reaching out with alarm, but Danny batted his hand away.  
“She passed out, probably from blood loss. How’s the water look?”

  
Will dragged his eyes away from her, tending the water and wrapping his arms around himself until it began to boil. He blew the candles out, and watched Danny begin the meticulous process of rinsing out each of the many wounds.  
The needle and thread, he couldn’t watch, but the teen’s hands were steady and demeanor confident as he stitched up the gashes as if she were a stuffed animal a dog had ravaged. He could hear the faint pop each time the needle broke skin.   
“Grab some pillows - I need to get her back as well. “

  
Will must have made some sound, and felt himself cringe when the back of the jeans were peeled away to reveal ribbons of muscle hanging off the back of her calf. Even Danny hissed in sympathy, and had Will get some of his mom’s clothes for her to wear. Will ran gratefully, repeating the mantra to keep the monsters out. Feeling their frustration ping back against some sort of barrier seeping through his house’s walls.   
By the time he returned, the blood and water had flooded the kitchen floor, and the worse of Barb’s wounds had been tied shut. Danny didn’t look any less concerned, feeling her pulse and tugging open an eyelid with his thumb as eddies of pink swirled in the shallow puddle around them.   
He glanced up, “Thank you for keeping up the line,” and then resumed a careful inspection, the boiled water down to a thin layer at the bottom. How did he-?

  
Will hunkered down, arms full of soft sweatshirts and pants,carefully held out of the bloody water.  
“Is she… going to make it?” He asked, and the question hung too long in the air between them. Danny exhaled through his nose, shaking his head in a small motion.  
“Not like this.” He murmured. Green eyes flicked up to Will, regarding him with some wariness, before lowering again.  
“I might be able to heal her, if I possess her.”  
Will twitched, swallowed, and clutched the clothes a bit tighter.

  
“Would it hurt?” He asked quietly, hearing the unspoken request for permission. Asking a friend, since she wasn’t awake to give it.  
Danny shook his head.  
“Unsettling, strange, cold, but I’ve never had it described as painful.”  
“So you’ve done this before?”  
“Not for something this severe, but… yes.”

  
Will bit his lip, trying to wrack his brain for a reason this might be a terrible idea. Nothing came to mind, and Barb looked… awfully grey. Awfully still, for all that he could still hear the slight rasp of her breath.   
“And you can… stop possessing her at any time?”  
“Of course.”  
Will have a small, hesitant nod, and watched as Danny placed a bloody hand on Barb’s forehead. He dissolved into green mist, flowing into her skin, and for a moment nothing happened.

  
Will yelped as Barb lurched, eyes acid green when they snapped open, mouth open in a strangled cry of pain.  
“Ohhhh shit.” She moaned, rolling onto one side and flexing her fingers against the wet linoleum. Water sloshed, dripping from her clothes where she’d been laying in it. “Oh shit I forgot this.”  
“Danny?”  
Danny-Barb looked up at him, and he could already see some of the smaller scrapes start to close - faint green glowed in the stitched- up lines on her cheek.

  
“This girl- Barb-“ it was strange hearing Barb say her own name like that, even if he knew it was Danny saying them. “-her leg is… not good. I don’t think stitches are going to fix that.” She- he? Exhaled a ragged breath, waving for his help as she(he?) leaned up on (their?) knees. No, it’s Danny willing those things, so it’s Him. He. Pronouns and possession are weird.  
Will offered the shirt, looking away when Danny closed his own eyes and tugged the shredded, dripping shirt off and pulled on the much drier, much warmer alternative on.

  
“When you say not good, how bad are we talking?”  
“I mean she’s-“ he cut himself off and stopped with one hand on the sweatpants in Wills arms. His expression screwed up, looking strange with ragged scars twisting it. A hitched breath like he was about to throw up, and Barb screamed, scrabbling away from Will and the now-crumpled body of Danny sliding down from the wall across the room. 

“Get out.” She gasped, leg dragging behind her as she crawled toward the front door. “Stay out of me”  
Her voice was broken by sobs, and the monsters outside started to claw at the windows anew, chattering in excitement  
_Stay out!_

  
“Barb, wait!” Will bolted to block her path, holding his hands out helplessly “I’m sorry, I said he could, I thought you were dying, look, he healed you!”  
“Stay out of my head” Will nodded quickly under her ferocious snarl, holding the pants out like a shield. Her own jeans were still in tatters around her thighs, one calf shaped less like a leg and more like a lumpy bundle of sticks - skin and too much thread wrapped around gristle and bone. He tried not to look at it for too long.

  
“If you don’t want me in your head like that-“ Danny dodged the rotted chunk of floorboard Barb ripped up and flung at his head. “-then you’ll want me to keep you unconscious until we find a way back. Your body is in shock, not feeling the pain properly. Once it sets in-“ “You will not touch me.”  
Danny frowned at the hissed words, noting how she placed herself between him and Will, one arm reaching out to shield him. He sighed, crouching down to sit on the floor.

  
“Alright.” Danny murmured, lowering his gaze. His shoulders dropped, hands picking at his fingernails in a gesture Will remembered from when they’d first stayed at Danny’s room. Making himself smaller, less threatening.

  
“Barb-“ She twitched when his fingers touched her elbow. “It’s okay, Barb. He’s been protecting me. He’s not human, but he saved you from the monsters, and saved me as well. He’s not… he isn’t trying to hurt us.”  
She turned her head slightly, not taking her eyes off Danny.  
“Where are we?”

  
Will shrugged awkwardly, a trickle of relief blooming up when she took the sweatpants, laying them over her lap.  
“A weird, gross reflection of our world. It’s.. another dimension, I think. It’s still connected, so I think we can still find a way back.”  
She didn’t speak again, and Will peered around to look at her face, tending when he noticed how pale it had become again. How the tremors shook her skin.

  
“Danny-?” “Don’t.” Barb gasped the command, pointing at Danny when he looked up. Her hands shook as she fisted them in the cloth on her lap, each shaky gasp sounding painful to the boys.

  
They met each other’s eyes over her shoulder, each asking a silent question.  
_What should we do?_


	14. If you don't want me, Set me free

 

_ She’d only caught flashes through the blackness that swept over her memories in a fog. No, no, she saw it.  A creature tore at her leg, whipping its head like a dog shaking meat off a bone. Her kick glanced off its head, her own skull rattling as it struck her across the face to silence the shrill shrieks she could hear herself making.  _

_ She tried to crawl away when it paused, looked up, but it’s face opened and bit at her - her arm, shoulder, breath stinking like tires and corpses left out in the sun to pop.  Pain roared up through each wound, fire and deep needles that made existence itself something unknowable in its overwhelming starburst across her brain. For a long, sobbing stretch of time, she didn’t know what her own name was, consumed by the agony of flesh being torn - eaten out of her in messy, ripping bites.  Every breath was choked, smothering as blackness edged across her vision and squeezed  her lungs. _

_ Cold, cold. Everything was so cold.  _

_ She remembered the thing thrown from her in a flash of acrid green. Heard a chorus of snarls and the dark silhouettes of more of them cresting the pool’s edge both flinching and puffing up in fury.  _

_ Saw a pair of green eyes descended from the sky,  living energy crackling around claw-curled fingers. It’s gaze paralyzed her, cold hooking up under her ribs and grasping far tighter than the visceral fear for survival.  _

_She knew it. Some part of her deep and forgotten_ ** _knew_** _that shade of green._

_ She froze, lungs forgetting how to scream, watched it’s human face bare teeth in an animal gesture, shoulders hunched, shadows skittering as the light it cast only grew.  _

_ Those eyes met her own - green and bottomless, shifting mercurial within a body far too still to be alive. The darkness in her memories  _ **_knew_ ** _ and she could only feel fear.  _

_ — _

And now those green eyes were lowered to the carpet, and she could feel the biting, cold, electric hum under her skin from where she’d felt it inside  _ her _ . Not her body, or muscles, or anywhere that teeth could reach, but a deeper  _ self _ that felt  _ smothered _ and  _ cold _ and  _ terrified  _ before she’d been able to use that fear to push it out. Too sure of her own death to do anything less than fight for every scrap of existence left. 

“You said…. You could get back home.” 

She hardly recognized her own voice, creaking as it was. Still, that had to be the priority. If Will was convinced that this… whatever that was, looking like a person, was working against the thing that tried to eat her, she’d give his opinion a shot. 

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, with half her body covered in itchy, pulling scabs that threatened to tear open with every move.  

Will pushed her arm down, nodding when she turned to look at him. 

“I don’t know if it’ll work or not, but whenever we light candles in here, it feels better, and it lets me listen to the real world a bit better.” His face was so earnest, eyes wide in a way that let the whites gleam in the dim moonlight filtering in through the window. 

Was that moonlight?   
“And before you… uh, before Danny found you, there was this weak spot, where I could actually  _ see _ into the real world, through this skin in the wall-” She zoned out without meaning to, his words turning fuzzy. 

If not moonlight, what else would it be?

The more she tried to figure out where the light was coming from - the blinds were closed, lights off, Danny’s glow barely illuminating his own skin, the more confusing it became. 

“-What do you think?” She twitched, thoughts snapping back to Will’s expectant face. 

“I- what? I don’t-...” 

Green eyes narrowed slightly, and she shot the teen a glare. 

“I mean, do you think torching one of the thin spots would work?” 

Barb twitched a shoulder, scrambling to gather the fragments of ideas together to make sense. 

“I- I guess, You’ve been here longer than me, so..” 

His expression changed minutely. Confusion, surprise, realization, and a furrowed brow she recognized from Nancy’s little brother that said he was uncomfortable with what he’d realized. 

“Oh.” He said, simply, quietly. 

Danny spoke up at last. 

“I’ll help try to break it. If you’re right about the barrier being thin, we might be able to brute force our way through.  If that doesn’t work, we can just head back to my place. I think I’ve seen what you’re describing pop up in the hallway, so we can try again there.” 

Barb shivered, flexing her fingers. 

_ Cold _ . 

“So, we’re just going to wait it out?” 

“As long as your barrier holds.” 

“What barrier?” 

Both of them looked at her, and she tucked her chin down, frowning. 

“What barrier?” she repeated, and they looked at each other. 

“The one keeping the monsters out.” Will followed her gaze toward the window. “They-” He trailed off, climbing carefully to his feet and edging toward the window, peeking out into the darkness. He made a small noise of confusion, craning his head a bit to get a better view along down the front porch. 

“They were just... “ 

“They might have given up for now, but they’ll probably be back. They do that to me sometimes.” 

Will sank back down out of sight of the window, tucking his knees close to him. 

“How’d that even work, anyway?”

Danny remained where he was, scratching at some of her blood drying into his shirt. 

“Last-ditch hope, I suppose. Where I’m from, a Lair is where  you know you belong, and you can kick others out by thinking hard about it. Since you said this is your house, I thought you might be able to claim it like that. Glad I was right.” 

“ _ You didn’t even know it would  _ **_work_ ** ??” Barb felt like she was watching a tennis match, bobbing her head back and forth between the two. 

“I’d hoped. It does raise some interesting points though.”  Danny stood up, and Barb tensed without meaning to, watching him walk across the room and peer out the window over Will’s head. 

“That it worked means this place is a lot more like my world than yours.”  He tilted his chin and exhaled a slow breath, fernfrost curling across the glass in rapid translucent designs. He raised a finger to crush the crystals in its center. “And if we’re playing by those rules, then the fact we’re still here at all is a deliberate choice on the part of whoever created it.”

“Who-ever?” Danny nodded to Will’s small-voiced question, dragging his fingers through the frost. 

“You both were dragged in by force. I found a portal that closed behind me. There have been… others, who come in through a rather large portal to the north - One that hasn’t closed.” 

He finished the frowning face drawn in the ice, leaning against, cutting in again before Will could ask what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t mention it because it’s crawling with monsters. The only time I can get anywhere near there is when they’re distracted by someone entering the portal.” 

The three of them fell silent for a few long moments, and Danny added angry eyebrows to the frosty face, humming a low tone to himself. She could see his gaze pinned on her in the window’s reflection.  

“But yeah, I guess we’ve just got to wait. You okay over there?” 

Barb frowned. “I’m fine.” 

He just hummed again, sitting down next to Will. She tried not to notice how the kid relaxed, closing his eyes for the first time since she woke up. How was he able to be so comfortable around something that admitted to being inhuman? Who held her gaze with unsettling stillness until she looked away. 

“So we’re waiting?” She muttered. 

Danny nodded with a noise of approval. 

Barb shifted her leg, surprised when it didn’t send bolts of pain. She glanced at the two boys, at the dark hallway leading to other rooms, and decided that’d be far too much work. 

“Keep your eyes closed for a second, I want to get into dry pants.” 

Will lifted his hand in a thumb’s up, and the green light flickered out as Danny closed his own.

It was an ordeal and a half, every movement delicate and cautious, alarm buzzing when the brain-numbing pain didn’t return. Flexing her knee  pulled a stitch, and she froze at a deep ‘pop’ feeling, and the itch of blood curling down the side of her thigh.. The expected pain didn’t reach her. 

Old science classes bubbled up - about shock and numbness and a body shutting down when put under too much stress. She bit her lip, shuffling out of the wet jeans and into softer sweatpants only slightly too big for her. Red bled through the fabric over her knee - only a tiny stripe that didn’t spread any further than that. 

Barb glanced back at Will, deeply hoping his plan would work - That she’d be able to get to a real doctor soon. She didn’t want to panic anyone when they couldn’t really DO anything about it. And...unless she was actively dying, she wasn’t keen on letting… Whatever that was, get between her ribs again. 

A faint tapping perked her ear as she fumbled to tie the sweatpant’s string, and she noticed Will mouthing words silently. 

“I’m done, you can open your eyes again.” 

Will nodded, but didn’t open his, voice whispy as he continued to sing the lyrics of a song she only barely recognized. 

Seeing nothing better to do in the meantime, Barb shuffled to a wall, leaning her head back against it. 

Why wasn’t she in pain? Why wasn’t she bleeding everywhere?  Weakness and coldness should have been the least of her worries. 

What if Danny was the one keeping them there? He seemed so full of answers- 

_ “This indecision's bugging me _

_ If you don't want me, set me free _

_ Exactly who’m I'm supposed to be? _

_ Don't you know which clothes even fit me? “ _

She forced the sick feeling back, tried to close her eyes and think of home. Tried to listen to Will’s soft breaths between the softly sung words, the rhythm he tapped out on the floor. 

_“Come on and let me know_ _  
__Should I cool it or should I blow? “_

She could still feel green eyes watching her from across the room. 

And somewhere in the back of her head a cold, assessing darkness watched him back. 


	15. Can't stay here

The melody the kid sang sounded vaguely familiar, a warm shoulder leaning against his side more comforting than he’d like to admit. 

Danny breathed carefully, deliberately, keeping pace with the boy’s breathing as he pondered over the barrier ability. A Lair within a Lair. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he supposed this place  might function more like a ghost’s kingdom… like Dora’s, or the Far Frozen. A little world unto itself. 

That meant he was actually dealing with a ghost, and the half-rotted creatures that hunted them weren’t necessarily what had created it. After all, whatever had created the barriers should have been able to break through an inexperienced  human’s claim in its own domain. 

Danny tapped his thumb on his knee, flicking a finger at a little spore that floated too close. It tumbled away on the tiny eddy he’d created, and drifted slowly up toward the ceiling. He couldn’t hear any rustling of monsters outside, and the faint whispers that slid through public places laid silent in here. 

The quiet felt peaceful, for once. 

 

Or, it would have, if not for the prickle along the back of his neck whenever the girl - Barb, was it? - looked at him. Something about her expression just unnerved him. He wasn’t entirely sure why, and she certainly acted too skittish to be a danger,  but the little red flag still fluttered whenever their eyes met. 

She’d been able to push him out, after all. It took some pretty incredible strength of willpower  to be able to realize and reject a possession. He wished he could admire her for it, instead of biting back a defensive bristle.

But- that wasn’t fair, was it? She’d been half eaten, dragged into this place, and flown around on her deathbed before being possessed. It was no surprise she’d be irate. No surpise that she’d find him unsettling, inhuman. It had taken a while for the boy to warm up to him. He’d have to be patient. 

Danny perked up when the boy  pushed off him, and he watched tentative footsteps wander back toward the kitchen, pausing for a moment. 

“I’m going to make some food, do you want any?” 

Barb lifted her head from the wall and nodded, starting to turn like she wanted to stand up. The boy continued into the kitchen, started to bang around to find something useful to eat. 

Danny… didn’t actually realize he should help until she was already up on her knees, braced awkwardly on the wall and shivering. He glided up to his feet and into her range of view, trying not to flinch when she did. 

“Need any help?” He offered, and she stared past his palm with a clearly suspicious frown. However, she still took his hand, so he’d count that as a win. 

He slung his shoulder under her armpit, arm wrapping around her waist and carefully grabbing high on her ribs. He remembered the gouge that had been taken out, lower down. He didn’t want to test that. 

Barb hissed a curse into his hair, nails ripping a bit of curling wallpaper as she struggled to get her legs under her. He floated them up to an appropriate height, but her choked breaths and twitching muscles weren’t coordinated so much as just happening with determination. Hoping he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, Danny hooked his ankle around her shin, helping to straighten the knee and held very still when her breath hitched. How many muscles had been torn out? How many had he replaced? He wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t… 

“Alright?” He murmured, guilt curling like a snake. Her shoulders tensed into an angry knot, and “Fine.” was growled out behind clenched teeth 

Her other leg finally dragged into place, and Danny tried lowering just a little, only for the joints to buckle. Barb flinched into a curved spine and clawing hands, and Danny quickly -carefully! - brought her back to the ground. 

“Sorry! Sorry.” 

He obeyed the quick way she pulled away from his hold, letting her go and drifting back a bit. She grabbed her own legs through the sweatpants, pulling them into a comfortable position. He wondered if her skin was supposed to be quite that bloodless. 

“You’re floating.” 

“Hm?” Danny looked down, blinked in surprise. So he was. Now that his energy was starting to come back, it felt a bit more natural. 

“I can stop if you want.” 

Barb just frowned at him, and didn’t answer. 

The boy cried from across the house; “I found some hairspray!” A quick spitting hiss followed it, and a small cheer. Danny continued to watch Barb rearrange her limbs into a sitting position, tension slowly relaxing from his arms again. For a moment - just a split second, he felt a jolt of alarm from touching her. It was gone now, faded back to just a general unease, but hard to ignore regardless. Brown eyes flicked up to meet his, and glanced away. 

He opened his mouth to say something - he wasn’t sure what - but the boy’s quick footsteps bounced into the room, and he held an aerosol can aloft with triumph. 

“Home-Made fireball!” 

Danny let himself be distracted, smiling indulgently and congratulating on the find. Barb was quick to slip on a more pleasant expression, pretending she was fine. 

Were they all pretending? 

“How’d you find hairspray in the kitchen?” Barb asked hollowly.

“Oh, I got a bit distracted, sorry. If you’re hungry we can make something-“ 

“Ah, no, it’s fine.” She quickly looked down at her lap, and the empty expression eased away. 

The boy paused, tilted his head. Was he noticing the same thing? It would be impossible to ask, but-

“As long as you’re alright, I wanna show you what fire does, here. It’s really cleansing!” He huffed like it was an inside joke, but brought out a small candle and lighter regardless. 

Danny settled down to sit.

He watched the boy lay down a little tealight on his knee, flicking his thumb over the lighter’s wheel a few times before the sparks finally caught. The pale spores jerked away quite suddenly, and none of them missed the way Barb flinched, tilting her head away and closing her eyes.    
She seemed to feel their stare, and peeked her eyes open, hunching defensively. 

“Sorry, it was just bright.”    
She rubbed at a scrape on her forehead, leaning in again to watch the candle. 

  
  


The boy gave a wane, apologetic smile, settling the candle down on the floor near his feet. 

“Yeah, it’s really different. 

Danny watched the spores flee the room, flying with little jellyfish twitches. His eyes trailed down the sagging ceiling, to the front door. Oh! That’s right - the reason they’d come here in the first place was to grab the gun that might have made it to this world. 

He listened carefully - still no noise outside. 

“You said you dropped it outside your house?” 

The boy twisted to look at him, a look of utter confusion on his face. Danny stared back for a moment before realizing he’d completely jumped topics. 

“Oh! Sorry, I mean, the gun you said you brought here. Did you leave it outside your house?” 

“Um, I think so.” The kid stood up, leaving the tealight as it was and trailing toward the back door.  Danny followed, glancing back to consider the way Barb was glaring daggers at the thiny candle. 

Understandably, the kid hesitated at his back door, hand on the doorknob.

“It’s alright, kid” Danny murmured, a little gesture getting him  to step aside. “Just direct me where, you don’t have to go out.” 

“It should be right in front of the shed out back. And…. Will.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name.” Will fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, eyes darting around the kitchen before finally rising up to meet Danny’s green glow. “My name is Will. Sorry for.. Not telling you, for this long.” 

Danny smiled, offering his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Will.” He was pleased, when they shook hands, to find Will’s skin no longer seemed so clammy and cold. Being home had been good for him. “As you know, My name’s Danny. I’ll be right back.”  

 

\------

* * *

 

It was understandable, Will thought, that he should want to stand by the door and watch his sort-of-friend hunt around for a glint of gunmetal in the piles of autumn leaves. A chance to watch his back. 

The sky was still dark, landscape still misty, but it was starting to feel normal. Too many days in a row dealing with something scary made it...maybe a bit less scary. 

“Try to your left!” He called out, and Danny waved a thumbs-up, hunched over to fling leaves to the side, kicking and shuffling through them hopefully. Will leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms and wondering at the thick black vines looping back and forth over the shed’s roof. 

At first he thought it was a trick of the light - everything looked menacing through the fog. A half-beat later, Will was certain, and the hair across his body stood on end. 

“DANNY-!” At the shout, and the rush of darkness, Danny lept up like a startled cat, flailing a bit as a lash of black vine clawed up where he had just been standing. Adrenaline jolted through him, and he held the door open to let the teen bolt through, the two of them quick to slam it shut and lock it. Will hopped back when a low  _ thump _ vibrated the wood, taking a few more steps when lines of shadow grew up across the little window. Slow slithering and creaking started to rise up around the house, and Danny bristled fiercely when a low growl sounded outside the kitchen window. 

The monsters were back. 

Will exhaled breathlessly, closing his eyes and trying to find that feeling of  _ home _ that had let him keep the barrier strong last time. It tickled the edges of his senses, and he yelped when Danny suddenly hauled him up by his armpits, dragging him back toward the living room. 

“Guys!” Barb shouted, and her next words were drowned out by Will’s own yelp and the shatter of glass as a vine broke through the kitchen window. A humanoid creature screamed through the gap, and Will saw it clawing as if the glass was still there, even as the black vine spread branches and sank itsself into the sink, spreading across the wall and countertops. 

“-Wall, The wall!” 

Will finally listened, and Danny let him go in favor of a sharp gesture and a wall of shimmering green obscuring the doorway to the kitchen. 

Will scrambled to pick up the can of hairspray, flinching as a crunching twang lashed outside of the front door. 

His thumb struck the lighter’s wheel once, twice-  He flinched as the corner of his nail bent backwards, and tried again. Where was the tealight? Smoking - probably blown out when they rushed in.

Barb stood near the edge of the glowing, breathing spot of wall, eyeing it with something akin to wonder. Danny growled behind him, another green barrier snapping up in front of the living room window, just as a mass of black vines slammed against it. The glass shattered, falling into the tiny gap between shield and wall. 

The wheel turned, flint striking, spark snapping up into the air and catching gas alight in a barely-audible whoosh~ 

Will raised the can of hairspray, pressed down. He would have been gleeful at the bright rush of flame if the situation hadn’t been so terrifying. He could hear a faint scream, and saw Barb twitch away as the walls peeled backward, curling and crawling and thinning the glowing spot. 

**“Will!”** An echoing voice, from the shivering veil of flesh and from all around them. 

His mom! His mom was on the other side!

“MOM!” He shouted, “We’re trying to break the wall! Help!” 

He stepped closer to the barrier , concentrating the flame on one spot, hoping it would be enough. Black spread, and the skin twitched and writhed like a living thing, smelling of charred meat and rotting things. 

Without so much as a warning, the blade of an axe came through the other side. 

Will yelped, falling back onto his butt, flame cutting off as the lighter skittered across the floor. 

The axe pulled back, then hacked through it again, widening the slit enough to see his mom’s wild eyes, wilder hair. She reached through, spreading her fingers in a desperate plea, and Danny grabbed him up, pushing him toward the opening. 

He could smell cigarette smoke, the faint rich tang of brewing coffee. His mom’s perfume. Could feel the slime of the barrier’s edges as they dragged across his face, neck, arms, leaving sticky trails and a sensation like it was trying to pull him back. His mom grabbed his forearm, his shoulder, and  _ pulled _ . 

 

Will felt himself crying before he even hit the ground, a hitched “Danny-” making its way into the air before Barb’s slimy red hair crowned past the torn barrier. She gasped, struggling, brown eyes wide as the wall’s edges started to creep back toward her, trying to seal up again. 

His mom grabbed her as well, pulling hard despite the teen’s strangled scream, and cushioning her collapse as her feet slid free, and the drywall healed shut behind her. 

Will gasped in the smell of his home. His  _ real _ home. The carpet was warm, the air was warm, everything was warm and dry and  _ whole _ and his mom was pulling his sticky torso into her arms, sobbing into his hair and ignoring the otherworldly filth that must have covered him. He clutched her sweater, buried his face in her shoulder as she choked out murmured words of comfort.

“Oh baby, you’re alive. I’m here, I’m here, shhh-” 

He held her tightly, desperately. 

And cried. 


	16. What's left behind

When Will slid through the barrier between worlds, Danny could feel his protection snap, like a threat pulled too tight. But- He’d protected them. He’d saved them. They were  _ safe _ . 

Glass shattered, wood groaning. He helped shove Barb out as well,  hands lighting up with green when he realized it was trying to heal itself closed. He reached to burn it open. 

Reached, and stopped. 

His heel wouldn’t leave the ground. 

Black vines crawled and shuddered up his leg, flinching away with tiny screams when he shot an ectoblast down at them. The obsession in his chest pulsed fiercely, satisfied he’d fulfilled it, and lent liquid energy through his veins. Danny freed his foot with another blast and floated, white creeping up the roots of his dark hair, green eyes illuminating the room. 

  
In the corner of his eye, the wall healed shut. 

 

Monsters crawled in through the window - creeping in through the kitchen. 

He flickered intangible, invisible, darting sideways through the wall and into the misty night beyond. 

Huge vines had lashed down over the house, creaking the supports and digging up shingles with bone-white roots. Danny ignored it, racing toward the forest and toward the safe haven of his apartment. 

The mist thickened before him, and Danny stopped abruptly, straining his ears. Every exhale tickled cold and blue with his ghost sense, the heaviness of the air crushing down on his shoulders. 

He looked up. 

A great cloud loomed above him, denser and darker than any sky he’d seen in this world before.    
Sweeping branches of dark mist reached down, caging around him. He couldn’t - couldn’t move. Something (fear?) had seized his limbs, weighing them with molasses and dampening the frantic energy of his core.  

A flash of lightning forked across the sky, catching and jumping in circles within what could only be two dark eyes. 

He lifted a hand, took a breath, every movement a struggle, and tried to form a shield. 

Before the wavering energy even extended past his palm, he felt himself snagged around the waist - around the throat. Felt himself pulled down to the ground, vines and roots spreading and branching to lock his limbs in place. 

He felt a prick in the back of his neck, heard the steady lope of monsters approaching through the leaves, and everything went white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry folks, this isn't the end!


	17. The lights come calling

There were a few ways a person could react to surprising events happening to them.

Some people froze up, startled by change and slow to adapt.

Some people recoiled, saving first themself before all else.

Some people faced it head-on, attacking first and asking questions later.

Joyce was the last type.

With all the terrifying, supernatural things happening lately, the fleshy section of her wall was less concerning than her son’s voice on the other side, terrified and calling out for her. It was only reasonable, in her mind, to help in any way she could. Attack first.

Until finally - _finally! -_ she had her youngest son back in her arms, sobbing and smelling of death and old earth. Joy was not a word that could have encompassed the flux of emotions collapsing around her in starbursts of galaxies too all-encompassing to name.

There was only a moment of silence after the wall closed. A moment to hold her boy, to feel his breath and his trembling and the choked hitch of his chest that said _Alive! He was alive!_

The body they’d pulled from the lake, the one they’d identified as her son - who looked so similar it was terrifying - wasn’t her son. She was holding him, she had been _right_ . She needed to tell Johnathan, needed to tell _Hopper_ because someone out there wanted her to give up and leave him lost in a dark place that could be reached through a barrier that tore and stank like days-old flesh.

A soft shift of cloth caught her attention, and Joyce looked up from her methodical smoothing of his hair, from the tight, clawed grasp around his waist. _No one could take him away again!_

For a brief moment, her swirling mind didn’t recognize the girl in front of her. Her eyes catalogued the injuries with an almost distant sort of calculation, the rest of her body honed in and tuned to the child in her arms.

The moment passed, and recognition  jolted.

“Barb-” She started, and when brown eyes flicked up to meet hers, Joyce couldn’t help but stare at the ragged furrows gouged into her cheek and neck, bright starbursts of color radiating pink across her fair skin with either irritation or infection.

Joyce kissed her son’s forehead, the smell and slime irrelevant through one last squeeze of affection, affirmation, possession. She wanted nothing more but to soothe his tears, but there was another problem in front of her, and her instincts drove her to _act._

Will clung tighter, twitching panicked when she started to push him away, his wide eyes and desperate expression looking years younger than he was.   

“We need to get you both to the hospital” She murmured, and the logic of that seemed to penetrate Will’s mind rather quickly. He loosened his grip, legs wobbling like a fawn as he stood up with her, still pressing close to her side, head tucked under her arm. Seeking protection under her wings.

“Barb, sweetie, can you walk?” Joyce felt her hands fluttering between reaching out and hurrying to call an ambulance. She felt the question turn over in her head, even as the girl’s expression turned confused, eyes scanning the unmarked  wall they’d fallen out of.

That made her decision for her.

Joyce let Will cling along, let him lean against her hip as she punched 911 into her phone, thoughts scrambling for the words to say. How could she explain this? Was it even possible to explain?

“ _911, what’s your emergency?”_

“Hi, this is Joyce Byer, I need an ambulance sent to my house immediately.” A breath, a hesitation pulling her throat closed for just a moment as she wondered about the body, the lies about her son, the sharp paranoia hovering around Hopper.  ”My son, Will Byers, and Barbara Holland are at my house - Barbara is really hurt, she looks like she was mauled by an animal - tooth marks.” She heard an intake of breath - surprise? - before the operator started rustling around on the other end.

_“Can you confirm the address?”_

Joyce rattled off their road and house number, watching her son tentatively touch the wall by her new phone, craning his head to look around at the christmas lights strung in an electronic web around the house. He looked so scared.

_“What are their ages?”_

“Twelve and ...Fifteen, I think?” She only knew Barbara through Mike's sister, so name recognition was truly the most she had.   

 _“Are both of them conscious?”_ She had to check, but Barbara was still sitting up, head lolling back against the coffee table and turning in the same bewildered examination of the house that Will was caught up in.

“Yes.”

_“Can you go into more detail about their injuries?”_

“Will is standing, walking, he looks confused, but not dazed.” Joyce herded them back toward where the teen sat, stretching the phone’s cord as far as it would go - just long enough to crouch next to the girl.  “Sweetie, where else are you hurt?”

“Everywhere.” Will’s rasping voice surprised her, his fingers digging into her sweater. “I think her leg is the worst, though.”

The emergency operator seemed to be aware a conversation was going on, and didn’t press as Joyce coaxed Barbara into letting her pull the bottom hem of her sweatpants up.

She got to about mid-calf before her brain processed what exactly she was seeing, and a moan of sympathy was strangled out of her.

“She- Barbara-” Her voice was shaking, she had to be clear, they had to know how to _fix_ her- “Barbara’s left leg is… really bad. There’s a- ah, a large part of her calf _missing_ , and it, it- was bit-” She swallowed, pinning the phone between her ear and shoulder, trying to be as gentle as possible as she pulled the elastic hem away and up. Joyce could only whisper, muscles coiled tight in sympathetic pain as her mind twitched sideways in an attempt to stay on track - they needed her.

“It looks infected - there’s dark veins radiating from... Stitches. Someone tried to give her stitches, but her skin is really red” Who could give her stitches? She still didn’t know the details of Will’s disappearance. Had they been kidnapped? A hundred awful scenarios whisked through her head, but none of them explained how they’d returned, how Will had been able to communicate through the lights.

None of it explained the creature that had clawed out through her wall.

They sat together for a short while, answering questions, prodding Barbara to keep her focused on them instead of lolling her head in a daze. She was clearly sick- skin clammy even beyond the strange fluid of the doorway, fair skin nearly ashen grey, freckles and torn skin standing out in sharp relief.

Will was likewise pale, but as he shed the unfamiliar jacket and rubbed some of the goo from his head with the less-filthy shirt underneath, he still seemed healthy enough. Color was coming back to his cheeks and lips, at least, like the slow path back to warmth after staying out in the snow for too long.

At long last, she heard sirens wailing toward them, and told the dispatcher as much, leaving the phone on the floor to shuffle with Will and unlock the front door for them.

The next half- hour was a whirl of EMT’s and flashing lights, knees bumping against Will’s as she held him in the back of the Ambulance, the two of them watching Barbara’s breath fog up the inside of an oxygen mask. The two of them tried to be inconspicuous as the EMT’s continued to move over her, checking blood pressure and heartbeat, examining the stitches and calling out terminology to each other that she only roughly grasped.

Will leaned into her every touch, clearly exhausted, yet walking a razor’s edge of fear at every new movement. She could feel the tremors just under his skin, the way his muscles tensed and jumped every time someone moved unexpectedly, or when the ambulance rocked suddenly.

She helped to towel off his hair, kept the shock blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

The hospital was another flurry of activity, and Joyce did her best to keep up with Barbara’s condition, but Will needed care as well, and the teen was being ushered to the Emergency room just as Will was assigned a room. It was a small town - they knew who she was, and her parents would know shortly that she'd been found. 

The barks of doctors and the rapid squeak of a wobbly wheel on the stretcher faded around the corner, swinging doors slapping shut behind them. Joyce sat by her son’s bedside, shock still buzzing over her brain, hand clenched perhaps too tight around Will’s arm, but he didn’t voice a complaint.

He was alive.

He was _alive_.


	18. Examine your situation. Yourself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Contains descriptions of vomiting. I probably should have been warning for blood and gore and stuff this whole time but oh well

The hospital was too clean.

The walls echoed with a hollow resonance, hard and unsettling. Neat corners cut through the world like razors, untouched by the slow collapse of rot and hunger. Too sharp and neat. Too white.

Perfect in a way that seemed unnatural and fake.

Will fidgeted with his thin blanket, shifting uncomfortably in the open-backed gown they’d given him. Stripped of his filth-covered clothes and awaiting the doctor’s return, he obediently let his mother half-crush his hand.

That, at least, was a comfort. His mom still smelled like old smoke and detergent, still wore the cardigan with a small hole near the collar she insisted she’d repair eventually. Hair more tangled than usual, wrists just as thin. Delicate wrinkles sprawled from the corners of her eyes, and when she looked up at him with a tight smile, they formed around her mouth as well.

Imperfect.

Real.

He squeezed her hand, twitching a little when a solid knock rang out from the closed door. The Nurse entered in a smooth whirl of stiff fabric and shuffling paper.

He couldn’t stop staring at how white the walls were. Even Danny’s safehouse had a thin film over (streaked into?) the fresh paint.

“I left a note for your brother.” His mom said softly, thumb stroking back and forth over his knuckles.

“Oh.” The sound sat strangely in his mouth. “That’s… good? That’s good!” He forced a shaky smile, but his mom was unconvinced.

“Alright William Byer, was it?”

They both looked up at the nurse’s question, nodding and letting her explain her way through taking his blood pressure and heartbeat. Will didn’t remember  his gown was open in the back until after he’d been weighed, and fought the warm flush in his cheeks.

Her pen scribbled notes into a clipboard as she asked about health history, confirming vaccinations with his mom.

The wall clock’s second hand spun smoothly instead of ticking, a thin red line against white and black.

It felt so fake.

Will took deep breaths in, exhaling slowly as icy cold metal pressed against his back to listen to his lungs. He coughed on accident, apologizing through the last of the rasps and clearing his throat loud enough to ring faintly within their hard box of a room.

The nurse was speaking again, but he wasn’t really listening any more, letting her prod and shine lights wherever. A laminated diagram on the wall showed a cutaway of the human body, red blood vessels sprawling a tangled web across darker organs. Lines pointed out the names of the parts and bones. Ribs to cartilage, straps of tendons down to hips and-

_Barbra choking on a gasp, bone slithered between twitching muscle, shining slick and heavy as blood spread in fern frost spirals across the floor-_

Will pulled his head away from the tongue depressor, the sharp taste too much like iron. His mouth watered, throat closing up as he squirmed away from the reaching hands. His mother must have read something in his expression, because she snatched the waste bin from the corner and shoved it under his face just in time.

He emptied his stomach in a quick purge, hacking phlegm out and almost thankful for the acid-burn smell that completely erased the heavy memory-tang of exposed flesh and blood. It was disgusting, but it was _real._

Will accepted a paper cup of water, panting over the waste bin as he considered if his stomach if it wanted to rebel again.

His throat tickled and he coughed, hacking until he could spit out the last of of the sick. He wearily swished water in his mouth, spitting that out as well and tiredly nodding or shaking his head when his mom and the nurse traded off asking about how he felt.

He just wanted to sleep. Somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere he could pretend that whole nightmare was just a fever dream.

A tiny slip of movement caught his eye.

There, in the clear water pooling like a resinous film on top of his emptied stomach, a little thing twitched.

Delicate filaments fluttered uselessly, caught in the surface tension like a beached jellyfish.

A tiny spore.

—

In another room, adults rushed around the body of a prone girl, carefully cutting rough stitches and taking measurements in an efficient whirlwind of called tools and numbers.

Further still was the spray of gravel under car tires, two desperate parents rushing into the waiting room to demand information. Yes of course they were her parents, they were the emergency contact-

Several blocks away, three boys pedaled furiously down the town’s dark roads - a bloody-nosed girl clinging tightly on the back of one. They’d heard the shouts of their friends over a hijacked radio, after a girl known only as “Eleven” had promised in stumbling words that Will was alive. Promised, and then proved it.

Across town, Johnathan Byers found his front door still unlocked. That alone wouldn’t have been a worry, but for the deep tire tracks in the dirt, and thick blood smeared into the living room carpet. An axe tacky with something fiberous, almost glued into the carpet by it. Hardly 90 seconds after pulling in the drive, he was already sprinting out, praying the tire tracks were from an ambulance, praying that his mom was alright.

Funeral fliers slid across his passenger seat as his car shrieked around a sharp corner. He couldn’t lose anyone else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have no idea hospital protocall for this situation. I’m assuming they prioritized Barb and rushed her to surgery, and are giving Will a full examination without a huge rush because he doesn’t seem in active danger.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly reminder that I subsist entirely off of encouragement from peers, so if you like it, please drop me a comment of like, a smiley face or something. Kudos ticking up isn't nearly as satisfying as an actual comment <3


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